


Blue as Storm

by SoullessSpirit



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Magnus Bane, M/M, Magnus is a shadowhunter, alec is a warlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-01-03 20:30:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12154224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoullessSpirit/pseuds/SoullessSpirit
Summary: Magnus easily remembered the time he stumbled on the first body, the biting wind and rain seeping into his clothes and soaking him to the bone as he stared at the cracked open ribs, the blood mixing with the rain and colouring the ground red."We need the information. I'll just talk to him, what's the worst that can happen?"“A severed arm, three broken ribs and a complete loss of all perception of what’s real and what isn’t, which will eventually make you go insane.”"...Oh."“Yeah. That’s what happened to the last Shadowhunter who tried to 'just talk' with Alexander Gideon Lightwood.”





	1. The Shadowhunters of the New York Institute.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I started writing this because there weren't enough malec fics based on the book for me to read anymore, so instead of whining about it I thought I might as wel start writing one myself. For fans of the TV show, the book is obviously a bit different, so if you don't like a blue eyed Alec that is shorter than Magnus, I'm warning you now! This is my first time writing anything and English isn't my native language, so please let me know if (I should probably say 'when' let's be real) I make mistakes!
> 
> (Sadly) I don't own any of these amazing characters, Cassandra Clare does.

It is early in the morning, that time of day that the sunlight streaming in through the window looks clear and sort of cold. The curtains of the library move in the gentle breeze that comes through the open windows. Magnus allows his feet to sway in the open air while sitting in the windowsill, his back turned to the interior of the room. Despite the calm of the morning he is restless, not capable of quieting his mind, the thoughts running through his head a thousand miles per hour. They’ve been at this for weeks and there still isn’t any improvement. Not capable of being silent any longer, he speaks to one of the two girls in the room, still looking at the sky outside. 

“So far Catarina, your ‘plan’ sounds like hiding in this library ‘till the end of time, or until this case magically solves itself. Surprisingly, I’m not exactly up for that.”

Magnus can feel his friend’s eyes on him as she replies, her tone slightly irritated. 

“Magnus, I know you want to do something about this, we all do, but we can’t just kill that demon. We need more information and that thing might be our only chance. Killing it now won’t help, whoever is controlling it will just find another one to get the job done and we’ll be back at square one.” Catarina looks at him with an exasperated expression on her face. 

Magnus knows what he said was uncalled for, that he isn’t the only one wanting to put an end to this, but he is tired and a feeling of restlessness has been following him around for a while now. He turns towards the room and watches as Catarina twist her hair up in a bun, the colour such a light shade of blonde it looks almost white, a stark contrast with her dark skin tone. She is sitting at the table surrounded by every piece of evidence they have regarding their current case, nursing a cup of coffee. The smell of the rich dark liquid reminds Magnus of when his mother used to teach him how to brew a perfect cup, using the beans she’d roasted herself.

The chair next to Catarina is occupied by Tessa. Her head is hidden behind the book she is reading. When Magnus tilts his head a little to the right he can make out the letters written on the cover. ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ it says on the front. 

About half an hour ago, she’d exclaimed that she’d go insane if she had to read over the same files one more time and had taken the book out of her bag. It was easy to see it was one of her favourites, the old book looked worn but well cared for. Little pieces of light brown hair were escaping her braid, a result of trying to run her hand through it whenever she was feeling particularly frustrated. Her grey eyes looked tired, evidence of one too many sleepless nights. No one had tried to stop her from taking a well earned break.

There was one other person in the room, hidden in the armchair next to the fireplace. The burning embers were reflected in the silver knife that he was sharpening. Raphael looked like he was feeling just as irritated as Magnus felt, the feeling becoming visible in the almost aggressive slide of his knife over the sharpening stone in his other hand. The slightly grating sound was loud in the otherwise quiet room.

The four of them were put together in the Institute as a temporary solution at first. They'd all lost their parents at a young age and couldn’t live on their own yet, so they were placed under the care of Ragnor Fell, the shadowhunter who ran the New York Institute. It wasn’t uncommon for shadowhunter children to become orphans, with the dangerous lives they were living the life expectancy of the average shadowhunter was about thirty. It was supposed to be temporarily, but after one and a half month they’d come to depend on one another, and the plans of placing them in other shadowhunter families were cancelled. Now that they were older they patrolled the streets of New York City and kept the mundanes living there safe from demons and other magical dangers. At least, they were supposed to, but they were having trouble with that at the moment. 

The problem with their current case is that they don’t really know what they’re dealing with. So far, twelve people have gone missing in the past three months. All teenagers or younger, though they didn’t look like that when they were found. With their skin pale and wrinkled, eyes glassy and faces twisted in agony, they could have easily passed for someone around the age of seventy. 

They had figured out which kind of demon was doing this, a demon called a Psuchophagos, more commonly known as a Soul Eater. True to it’s name, it would eat the souls of it’s victims by forcefully tearing it out of their chest. As a result, the empty human shell that was left behind would age abnormally fast and turn into the gruesome displays that they would later find in dark alleys and abandoned buildings. 

Magnus easily remembered the time he stumbled on the first body, the biting wind and rain seeping into his clothes and soaking him to the bone as he stared at the cracked open ribs, the blood mixing with the rain and colouring the ground red. It was an image he wasn’t going to be able to get out of his head any time soon.  
He wanted to find whoever was responsible for the killings as fast as possible, but sadly this wasn’t an easy case where they’d simply have to track the demon and kill it. 

The killings were too controlled for a Soul Eater, who would usually attack large places like nightclubs or movie theatres and kill everyone inside, not just one person every week. Though it meant less casualties, this wasn’t a good thing. It meant that someone was controlling the demon, and controlling a Soul Eater took a lot of power. They weren’t just looking for a demon, but an extremely powerful individual with an unknown agenda, and no idea how to find them. 

Which was why they needed more information: they needed to know who or what had the power to control a Soul Eater, and why they would want to control one in the first place. 

There was a soft sound as Tessa put her book down, carefully placing her bookmark in between the yellowed pages. “Controlling a demon as powerful as a Soul Eater takes a lot of power” Tessa suddenly says, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers “with that I mean ancient magic rituals of shadow, smoke and blood offers. You know, the really dark stuff. Stuff that we aren’t going to find in our library. We have to talk to someone with knowledge about those things.” 

The sound of Raphael sharpening his knife comes to a stop as he looks up at Tessa’s words. “Ragnor has spent his time here studying the Downworlders, he might know something useful. At the very least he might be able to bring us in contact with someone who does. It’s as good a start as any.”

Ragnor was like an uncle to them: not really a father figure, but he had taken care of them when they were young. He had also been their teacher, and though he didn't act like it, he did genuinely care for them all.

Catarina closes the file she’d been looking into with a snap. “Sounds good. Anything is better than looking over old evidence, and at this point I’m almost ready to allow Magnus to hunt that bloody demon down and snap it’s neck.”

Magnus stretches languidly and throws a last look at the sky, now coloured a silvery grey. “Well, would you look at that. Raphael has actually managed to say something useful for once. That’s got to be a first.” Magnus ducks as Raphael throws his freshly sharpened knife at his head, the edge gleaming in the morning light.

It embeds itself in the windowsill with a dull thud.

 

 

Ragnor’s office is on the floor above the library, the sunlight streaming in through the large stained-glass windows making little flecks of multi-coloured light dance across the dark wood floorboards. The room is filled with ancient maps, drawings and books, with an old wooden desk in the middle.

Ragnor is sitting behind the desk reading a book written in some sort of ancient Fae dialect. He looks up at the sound of the heavy oak door opening, putting his book away as he sees them enter his office.

“What is so important that it requires all four of you to come to me?”

Catarina takes the seat in front of the desk as she starts to speak. “We need some information on magic, the dark kind. The Soul Eater is being controlled by someone, and we want to find out who has the power to do so, and why. We thought you might be able to help us, since you’ve studied Downworlders and their magic.”

Ragnor shakes his head. “I’d gladly help you if I could, but I'm afraid I can't in this case. Whatever I managed to learn in all my time studying them is probably only the surface, they're extremely secretive and distrustful. They wouldn't share any knowledge about their magic with us at all if they could get away with it."

The relationship between Shadowhunters and Downworlders has always been an uneasy one. After years of war the Shadowhunters came out on top, and from then on they used every means they thought were necessary to keep the Downworlders under their control. Both sides held only distrust and contempt for the other, and the uneasy peace between them felt like it could shatter into a million pieces at any second.

"When I asked about their everyday magic they gave almost nothing away, let alone tell me anything about the ancient and dark kind. It isn't even legal, and the consequences for casting those spells or performing rituals like that are extremely severe. We’re talking lifelong imprisonment or even death. They wouldn’t want to risk that fate by telling us about it, and they’re not keen on sharing their secrets anyway. We’re not exactly on good terms with them, as you know.”

“Is there really no one we can ask though?” Tessa says, “We’ve got at least a few Downworlders we can at least talk with, right?”

“We do, but I fear they don’t have the information you seek. There are only a certain few people who know more about dark magic than vague descriptions and rumours, and I fear that none of them would want to help us. Fae with high positions in their court, millennia old Vampires, Demon princes and the most powerful of the Warlocks. That’s already a small group, and they’re spread out over the entire world.” Ragnor opened his mouth as if to say something, only to close it again with a frown on his face.

“...Okay I feel that there’s a ‘but’ coming” Magnus says, “so just spit it out.”

Ragnor raises his eyebrows at him, but chooses to ignore his rudeness in favour of telling them. “There is one person living in New York that might have the information you’re looking for. However, I don’t know much about him, or the extent of his power and that makes him dangerous."

"Is it just me or does that sound exactly like the type of person we think could be behind all this?" Raphael says from his place behind Catarina.

"Exactly. We know nothing about him or his magical skill except for the fact that he is dangerous and really hates our guts.”

Magnus laughed, “Well, he might hate our guts, but that's nothing new now is it? I was under the impression that every Downworlder hated us anyway, what's so special about this one?" 

"Didn't you hear anything I just said?", Ragnor groans. "What part of 'dangerous' and 'hates us' don't you understand?!"

"I think you're being a little dramatic here. I happen to be a very likeable person. I'll just talk to him, what's the worst that can happen?"

“A severed arm, three broken ribs and a complete loss of all perception of what’s real and what isn’t, which will eventually make you go insane.”

 

It was silent for a moment before Magnus let out a soft ‘oh’.

 

“Yeah. That’s what happened to the last Shadowhunter who decided to ‘just talk to him’.”

“Sorry, who is it that we’re talking about?” Tessa asks with an alarmed expression on her face.

Ragnor shifts in his chair as his eyes fix on one of the trophies on display in the back of the room, a bright white feather. 

“The High Warlock of Brooklyn, Alexander Gideon Lightwood.”


	2. Magic, Church and the Brooklyn Apartment.

The sky is as black as ink and the light smell of flowers hangs in the air as Alec opens the door to the balcony. It’s one of his favourite spots in his apartment, the different kinds of magical plants curling around the railing and the fire escape giving it an otherworldly feel. Some of the flowers glow, illuminating the balcony and bathing it in soft shades of different colours. The vine that has grown up and around the fire escape resembles a wisteria, but instead of the usual blue the flowers of this one are black with silver veins flowing over the petals like water.

It is usually here that Alec finally let’s his mind wander. Surrounded by the flowers he grew himself, the familiar feeling of his own magic permanently lingering in the air, he comes as close to feeling safe and at peace as he possibly can.

He hasn’t truly felt safe in a long time.

He gently runs his fingers over the petals of the flower closest to him. They look even paler than usual against the dark red and gold pattern of the flower. Despite its delicate looks this one is particularly deadly: if you were to ingest it in some way, you’d be dead in a minute. Jace had once said that it reminded him of Alec.

Though he grows some of them purely for aesthetic purposes, most flowers are used for potions and spells. He’s always preferred to make his own ingredients instead of buying them from others. He likes knowing what he’s working with and where it came from.

He lets his mind wander as he waters the flowers with a small hand movement, the water springing into existence from his palm, flowing down his fingertips. 

There are rumours going around, hushed voices speaking of a dark power rising, of young mortals being hunted down for their souls. It should worry him, but he has realised a long time ago that usually, it just doesn’t matter. Everything comes and goes, changes and yet stays the exact same. Intervening can risk the safety of his family, and they are all he cares about, all he has and lives for. Everything else is temporary anyway. 

He might lay low for a while, he’s got a little house in Norway he could go to. It’s tucked far enough away from any big populated areas that no one would think to look there. He’d take Jace and Izzy with him. They’d probably hate it, but even they’d realised after a few decades that sometimes it was best to just wait things out. See what happened and adapt to the new situation.

“And I’ll bring you with me too of course,” Alec murmurs as he feels the soft hairs of Church’s tail against his arm. He’d rescued the cat back in the 1800’s when he stopped some idiot from summoning one of the nine Princes of Hell. Humans could be extremely dumb sometimes. The immortality of the cat had come as a surprise, but Alec didn’t really mind, he actually quite liked the company. It made his apartment a little less lonely without the added expectations of conversation that would come with a roommate or something. 

Alec throws one last look at the sky before going back inside, picking Church up in his arms along the way. Isabelle is convinced that Alec uses magic to keep the cat from clawing his eyes out, which is what Church usually does when anyone else tries to touch him in any way. Alec thinks that he and Church just have a special bond because they both hate people looking at them, let alone being touched by them.

Alec prefers to go through life unnoticed, unknown. Gaining people’s attention just doesn’t work out well for him. He remembers the unbearable pain, the betrayal, and decides that he’s definitely better off staying unseen, hidden in the shadows.

He closes the door of the balcony behind him, shutting out the sounds of the city and the cool night air.

 

There is a loud crash from the living room before Alec hears Jace scream. “ _No Isabelle, _you’re staying right here, I don’t want you anywhere near the kitchen!”__

____

There’s more yelling and Isabelle calling Jace some very inappropriate names before she comes walking into the kitchen, Jace right behind her rubbing the back of his head.

____

“I think last week’s lasagne turned out great-- no, don’t you _dare _roll your eyes at me Alec—the green colour was intentional and Jace just has a weak stomach that can’t digest the finer things in life.” Isabelle gives them a bright smile before trying to get to the pan Alec is baking pancakes in.__

______ _ _

He catches her wrist before she can do anything to them and gently but firmly pushes her away from the furnace. Bad things happen when Isabelle and the furnace come in contact.

______ _ _

“They’re almost done, so if any of you could do something useful for once and set the table that would be great.” Alec puts the last of the pancakes on a plate before moving to put them on the dark wooden table. Church is dozing in the little rectangle of sunlight at the edge of the table, and Alec notes with amusement that both Jace and Izzy have decided to sit as far away from him as possible.

______ _ _

They eat while talking about everything and nothing at once, Isabelle drowning her pancakes in syrup and-

______ _ _

“Is that barbeque sauce?!” Jace asks, looking at her plate with an expression on his face that is a mix of disgust and morbid curiosity.

______ _ _

“Do you have a problem with that?” Isabelle says, her slightly pointed ears moving a bit back like they do when she’s really frustrated and close to hitting you in the face. Her long black hair is woven in a braid running down her back, the little loose strands framing her face and falling in her eyes, which are narrowed and gleaming dangerously. Jace does the safe thing and quickly says that no, he most certainly does not have a problem with her cooking choices. Isabelle relaxes back in her chair, but not before grabbing one of his pancakes as retribution. 

______ _ _

Alec and Isabelle share the same mother, a human called Maryse Lightwood. She’d been beautiful and ambitious, and when she found out that with a demon’s help she could realise her dreams of inheriting her family’s fortune, she’d been ecstatic. She’d only been sixteen at the time, but her looks caught the attention of a demon, and they’d struck a deal. Maryse would inherit her family’s fortune, and in exchange she would spend one night with the demon. She’d gotten pregnant, but pretended that her fiancé was Alec’s father to avoid any difficult questions, and for a long time, no one noticed. No one except her fiancé himself. He was a Faerie in disguise, intent on marrying the daughter of a rich mundane family. At first he’d thought that Alec didn’t have any of the Faerie traits because he was in disguise when Alec was conceived, but then Isabelle had been born with pointed ears and dark eyes, and he knew something wasn’t right. 

______ _ _

Warlock marks only show up a few years after birth, and when Alec’s did they were hard to miss. In a fit of rage, Alec’s ‘father’ had tried to drown him in the river, but as oxygen was running out, water surrounding him on all sides, the hand in his neck keeping him under, Alec had panicked and lashed out with his magic. Alec remembers hearing the screams as Maryse’s fiancé flew backwards, crashing into the house and painting the wall red with his blood. After that no one dared to come near him except for Isabelle. They avoided him like the plague, and whispers about the Lightwoods’ ‘demon child’ started to follow him around wherever he went. Alec left his childhood home as soon as he could. Before he could close the door behind him though, a small hand had grasped the fabric of his trousers, and Alec looked down right into the little face of his half sister. They’d left their home hand in hand. 

______ _ _

They’d met Jace during the time when Isabelle wanted to find out more about her Fae ancestry. Isabelle had accidentally kicked in the doors of a courtroom instead of the bathroom, in the middle of Jace’s hearing. Jace had apparently broken several sacred Fae rules while saving one of their cities from an invasion. The situation had escalated quickly, with the Fae accusing Isabelle off trying to break Jace out, Isabelle herself not helping her case when she started to defend Jace. She’d yelled at them and said that they should be grateful that he had defended their city, and overlook the fact that he had broken a few ancient and important Fae laws. Luckily Alec had been able to calm everyone down fairly quickly (maybe with the help of a little magic, but Alec had made sure nobody could remember that) and it ended with Isabelle free of any charges, Jace sort-of-but-not-really exiled and an exhausted Alec. Since that day they’d always stuck together.

______ _ _

“Did you hear about the recent murders?” Jace asks around a mouth full of pancakes. “Apparently they’re all missing their souls and stuff. Maybe something we should look into?”

______ _ _

Isabelle shakes her head before speaking. “Nah, Meliorn told me that those Nephilim are already looking into it. I’d rather not get involved.”

______ _ _

Meliorn is Isabelle’s boyfriend of the month, a Faerie with connections to important people in the court. Alec wonders when he will realise that Isabelle is simply using him. He figures it will probably take a long time, considering Jace and Alec are part of the very few people who know that Isabelle is only half Fae, which gives her the ability to lie (much to Jace’s chagrin, who is a full-blood Faerie and doesn’t have that luxury).

______ _ _

“I agree with Izzy, I want as little to do with them as possible. Preferably nothing at all.” Alec grumbled, stabbing a blueberry onto his fork with a little more force than necessary. 

______ _ _

“Well, tough luck. Guess what I found in your mail this morning.” Jace stands up from the table and walks out into the hall, only to return with a letter in his hand. There is a seal depicting a burning sword on the envelop, and Alec starts to tense, because he knows that seal. 

______ _ _

“...What does the head of the New York Institute want from me.” Alec takes the envelop from Jace, his fingers clenching a bit too tight around it, slightly crushing the paper. 

______ _ _

He takes the letter out and starts reading.

______ _ _

“Well? Alec, what is it?” Isabelle looks at him, trying to hide how anxious she is, but Alec knows her too well not to see that her smile is forced, strained around the edges.

______ _ _

“They want me to consult on their case, tell them about dark an old magic. You were right Izzy, this is about the mundane killings.” Alec's heart is beating a bit too fast as he says the next part, past fears slowly crawling back to the surface. “They’ll come here the day after tomorrow.”

______ _ _

“You can just say no right? I mean, they can’t force you to do this can they?” Jace looks worried, his breakfast forgotten as he tries to catch Alec’s eye.

______ _ _

“No Jace, they can,” Alec says, “it’s literally in their stupid law. If I refuse, it’s obscuring of justice. I don’t have a choice.”

______ _ _

“Maybe it won’t be that bad?” Isabelle tries, “These aren’t the same Nephilim as the ones from-“

______ _ _

“It doesn’t matter Izzy, they’re all the same. They only care about their own kind, and will gladly let all of us die if it means that they’ll get what they want. I’ll try to deal with this, I’ll have to, but please promise me that you won’t interfere. I don’t want either of you hurt, so _please _, promise you won't do anything stupid.”__

________ _ _ _ _

“We promise,” Jace says, “But Alec?”

________ _ _ _ _

“Yeah?”

________ _ _ _ _

“Please watch out for yourself as well.”

________ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, that was the second chapter! I don't know why but when I was thinking about how Alec would cast his spells and use his magic, I imagined him to have a very precise, almost perfectionistic approach to it. So, where Magnus has this laisez-faire kind of lazy way of using magic, I imagined Alec would have these light but precise and calculated little movements. I don't know why, but that thought made me really happy.
> 
> You know what else made my day? Your kudos and comments on the last chapter!!! Thank you so much!!! ^~^ I wasn't really expecting anything so they came as a huge surprise! I was in this happy and giddy mood for the rest of the day, thank you so much, I'm so glad you liked it!!! <3


	3. Fear makes you rude, Alexander.

There is a nervous energy running through Magnus’ veins. He feels hyper-aware of his surroundings, eyes bright, ready to take action at any given moment. They’re finally _doing _something, not sitting around in the library breaking their backs over files and reports they’ve read a thousand times already. They’d found the High Warlock’s address easily enough, because every Downworlder in any kind of position of power is required to leave behind an address for the Nephilim so they can be contacted when they are needed. Which is the case in this situation.__

____

Magnus looks in the mirror, fixing his hair and taking in the way he looks. First impressions are key after all. His eyes are staring back at him, bright with excitement. He’s always liked the way they look, their golden green colour fitting in nicely with his honey coloured skin. He looks wild and dangerous, his dark hair falling in his eyes. He hums approvingly, turning way from his reflection to grab his jacket and head towards the armoury where the others are already picking out their weapons. 

____

“Finally, there you are. There is no reason to spend that long on your appearance Magnus, it’s not like you’re walking the fucking runway.” Raphael grumbles while securing his silver knife to his belt. 

____

“Who says I’m not. Someone walked up to me when I was buying new sunglasses yesterday and asked me if I’d ever dreamed of being a model. I could always call them back.” 

____

Catarina inspects a seraph blade before dropping it into the part of her shoe specifically made for hiding a knife or dagger. “That’s happened to you quite a lot of times before and you’ve never actually called them back, so I doubt you’ll do it now. Now stop wasting time and get your weapons ready, we don’t want to be late.” 

____

“About that,” Magnus says, “I thought we were just going to discuss the case with that Warlock, not hunt down every living thing in the nearby area. What’s up with the six seraph blades you’re carrying?” 

____

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to be very willing to share his knowledge with us when we show up armed to the teeth.” Tessa says, “Are you sure this is a good idea?” 

____

“Ragnor warned us that he’s dangerous, and we shouldn’t take that lightly. I’d rather not walk unprepared into a dragon’s den thinking it’s a harmless animal. Besides, we’re keeping most of the weapons out of sight anyway. This one will be the only one on display.” Catarina says, holding up a midsized seraph blade for them to see before strapping it to her belt. 

____

Magnus walks over to the table where he keeps his main weapon. He picks up the blade to inspect its edge, pressing his thumb lightly against it, careful not to break the skin. He keeps his blade perfectly sharp at all times. It’s an heirloom, passed down for generations, originally made by a Warlock whose name has long since been forgotten. It was the only blade she’d ever made, unique in style and endurance. The spells cast upon it are the reason it’s still in top condition, even the decoration looks like it was carved in just yesterday. It’s a katana, both the blade and handle a midnight black. There are delicate golden flowers carved in the blade as decoration, gleaming against the deep black. They match the golden accents on the handle in colour. 

____

He puts the blade in its sheath strapped diagonally across his back, turning around just as Tessa hides away the last of her three seraph blades and Raphael finishes his Endurance rune. 

____

“Everyone ready to go?” Catarina asks. “I want each and every one of you to keep your guard up, but no violence unless absolutely necessary. I’m looking at you Magnus.” 

____

Magnus rolls his eyes, “I get it Catarina, no need to call me out.” 

____

__\---_ _

____

"You know what I don’t get?” Tessa says as they walk the last few blocks to their destination. “I decided to see what I could find about this Alexander to get a better idea of what we should be looking out for, and I came across multiple accounts where he actually helped the institute. It was mostly healing the wounded, but sometimes he provided potions or performed spells. It looked like he was on relatively good terms with them, so why does Ragnor speak of him as if he is the most dangerous and hostile individual we’ll ever meet?” 

____

"I don’t know,” Raphael answers, “maybe they were paying him insane amounts of money at that time, or gave him influence in the council?” 

____

“Or maybe he was gaining information on us, trying to learn about our secrets, and got mad that he didn’t succeed.” Catarina frowns. “It’s weird to think there was a time when he actually healed wounded Shadowhunters when all we’ve heard of him so far suggests that he will cut our heads off at the first given opportunity.” 

____

“Hold on,” Raphael suddenly cuts in, “I think this is it.” 

____

They’re standing in front of a rather average looking house. Magnus doesn’t know why, but he sort of expected a dark mansion with wrought iron gates and a foreboding atmosphere. Instead the house looks just like any other down the street. He shares a look with Catarina before pressing the doorbell. 

____

There’s a tense few seconds of silence before a buzzing sound signals that the door is open. Magnus frowns, and warily makes his way into the building, the others following close behind. 

____

They make their way up the stairs carefully, taking in their surroundings. The building is old, the paint peeling off of the walls and the floor is a bit dusty, but otherwise it’s in a good condition. The door on the first floor is closed, but when they reach the second floor they’re met with a boy looking no older than eighteen standing in the doorway, light streaming past his silhouette. He gestures for them to come inside before moving further into the room himself. 

____

In the daylight Magnus can better make out his face, and he is _gorgeous_. He is pretty tall, though not as tall as Magnus himself, with pale skin like marble and high cheekbones. His bright blue eyes are framed by black strands of hair that form a messy halo around his head. His form is hidden in an oversized sweater, the black faded to a dark grey and there are holes at the edges of the sleeves, but instead of it making him look like a homeless person, it just makes him look more soft and vulnerable. 

____

Magnus wants to pick him up and wrap him in a blanket, protect him from the world and every bad thing in it. 

____

This might turn out to be a lot more fun than expected, Magnus thinks to himself before starting to speak. “Hey, I’m Magnus, this is the apartment of Alexander Lightwood right? We’ve got an appointment with him, but I take it he’s not here yet. I’d be happy to wait for him if that means I get to spend some time with you though,” Magnus says with a smirk, “What’s your name?” 

____

“My name is Alec Lightwood, and there will be no waiting involved considering I’m already here.” 

____

“Uh...” 

____

Magnus had hoped to smoothly cruise through this conversation like he usually does, but his brain is having trouble catching up at the moment. In his mind he’d formed this picture of Alec looking like a fifty-something with a receding hairline and beady little eyes burning with greed and envy. He’d imagined a guy who thought of himself as a godsend, a narcissistic asshole incapable of loving any other living thing. Instead Alec turned out to look like a literal angel, and Magnus was not prepared for that. Catarina, Raphael and Tessa are just as shocked as he is, and the shock leaves them awkwardly tongue-tied. 

____

“Not what you expected?” Alec asks with a raised eyebrow, “What did you think I looked like? Did you expect me to have horns and a tail? Sorry to disappoint, except I’m really not. Please, just ask your questions. The sooner you leave my apartment, the better.” 

____

Raphael is the first to recover. “You actually could have horns and a tail for all we know. We can’t exactly tell what you really look like with the heavy layer of glamour that surrounds you.” 

____

It is then that Magnus realises that Raphael is right. Looking at Alec is like looking at something through glass: everything looks perfectly normal but there is a barrier separating you from the object you’re looking at. 

____

“Well, what I look like isn’t any of your business.” Alec replies. He lowers himself into a chair, motioning for them to do the same. “I don’t think you came all the way here to comment on the way I look, so get on with whatever you’re really here for.” 

____

Magnus thinks that if he’d known what Alec looked like he’d definitely have made the trip purely to comment on his appearance. And, you know, maybe do some other things as well... 

____

“You know what we’re here for,” Catarina says, “The mundane killings. They were killed by a Soul Eater, but it’s being controlled by someone else. We want to know who would be able to do something like that, and why.” 

____

“It takes power to control such a demon, so you’re searching for someone with a vast knowledge of magic, or simply a great deal of power, or both. As to the why, souls are powerful things themselves. They can be used as ingredients for summoning rituals or spells, you can add them to a potion, hell, some people even collect them purely for the aesthetic.” 

____

Catarina is starting to get frustrated, Magnus can see it in the way her foot starts to lightly tap against the floor. They knew this already, it isn’t new information, and by the looks of it that’s exactly what Alec is aiming for. He is purposefully avoiding telling them things they don’t know yet. 

____

“Summoning demons is illegal you know.” Raphael suddenly says. 

____

“No shit, really?” Alec says, sarcasm dripping off of his voice with every syllable, “I didn’t know, it’s not like you regularly kill anyone that does or anything.” 

____

“If you know, then why did you summon one yourself?” 

____

They all follow Raphael’s gaze to where it’s pointed at the spot behind the chair where Alec is sitting. The unmistakable reddish-brown colour of dried blood is painted in a circle, demonic runes surrounding the edge. Magnus looks up at Alec, who simply shrugs. 

____

“How do you know it’s not just there for decoration?” he says, “I do love some nice interior design.” 

____

Magnus looks around at the apartment, notices the minimalistic way it’s been furnished, and is one hundred percent sure that that is a lie. 

____

“You’re lying.” 

____

“Good luck trying to prove that.” 

____

He can feel the frustration coming off of Catarina in waves now. This is not how she’d hoped their little visit would go, and they’re getting absolutely nowhere. Luckily Tessa still has some form of patience left and steers the topic back to where they came for. 

____

“How do you control a Soul Eater?” she asks. 

____

“With magic.” 

____

And that’s the exact moment Catarina loses the last of her patience. 

____

_“We know that!”_ She yells, “We already knew _everything_ you’ve said so far, and it’s not like you don’t know any more than we do, because _clearly_ you do, but you’re unwilling to share it with us. It’s against the law to withhold information, so that means you have to tell us.” 

____

And that had definitely been the wrong thing to say, Magnus realises as Alec’s eyes narrow and his voice becomes quiet, controlled, his words dripping with venom. 

____

“I have to tell you? I don’t _have_ to do anything for you. I owe you _nothing_.” 

____

The atmosphere might have been tense at first, but it is nothing compared to this. He can feel Raphael’s hand drift to the knife at his belt and sees Catarina reach for the blade hidden in her shoe. 

____

“You barge into my house armed to the fucking _teeth_ —don’t think I didn’t notice—and you want me to simply give you all the answers? Never mind the fact that it concerns details of dark magic that Warlocks have kept secret for millennia, _and with a reason_ , but you think I just owe it to you. Well I think the fuck not.” 

____

White sparks fly as Alec abruptly stands, and Magnus mirrors him as he pulls his katana free, Catarina, Raphael and Tessa doing the same with their weapons. Suddenly Alec doesn’t look so vulnerable anymore. His blue eyes are burning and the veins in his underarm glow a bright white as white fire begins to form in his hands. 

____

There is no time to run when Alec flicks his wrist and lets go of the concentrated ball of magic that has formed in his hand. There is no time to warn Catarina as it flies straight towards her. Magnus can only jump in front of her before it hits her in the chest. 

____

There is an agonizing pain as the magic collides with his back and Magnus’ vision turns white, before it all becomes too much and he sinks away into unconsciousness. 

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Magnus, that must've hurt... >:)
> 
> The title of this chapter was inspired by somthing said to Will on the TV show 'Hannibal', but I thought it worked well for Alec with this chapter. I had a lot of fun imagining what kind of weapon Magnus would use, and I think a katana kind of fits with his personality, don't you think? Also, as you might have noticed Alec's magic is white, which was something I spend a good chunk of time thinking about because I wasn't sure if I preferred black, white or blue. In the end I went for white though, and I'm quite happy I did. I think it suits him. As you might have noticed I really enjoyed describing him as a little ball of fluff in his oversized sweaters. :3 
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and the lovely comments on the last chapter! I love reading what you think about it, and I am so glad you like the story so far!!!


	4. This thing called trust.

It is late in the afternoon and the sunlight bathes Alec’s living room in a golden glow. It looks deceptively warm, when in reality the chill of winter hasn’t left yet, even though spring has already begun.

Isabelle is sitting on the couch with her face buried in her hands. Her long black hair is falling down her back like a waterfall of ink, the silver pins she’d used to pin back the front strands shining like stars where the light reflects in them. “Oh no. Oh Alec, please tell me you’re kidding. Please tell me you did _not_ just attack them like that.”

He’d just finished telling her what happened during the Shadowhunters’ visit, and to put it lightly, she was a little upset. Which was understandable, because Alec was in some serious trouble.

“I know Izzy, I know I shouldn’t have-”

“They’ll be going after you now,” Isabelle cut in, “Alec this is enough to get you locked up for years! What were you even thinking?” She looks up at him, her dark eyes begging him for an explanation.

He sighs, picking up Church and holding him close to his chest, running his fingers through the cat’s soft grey fur. “I don’t know, I was scared and upset. I know that it’s not a good reason, but I was on edge from the moment they rang the doorbell, with them just barging in like they owned the place, armed to the teeth. When they started claiming that I had to answer their questions, like I didn’t have a choice in the matter, I just snapped.”

He can’t look her in the eye, so instead he just focuses on the thread coming loose from the bottom of his sweater. It’s another black one, the colour faded from being washed and worn for a long time. He absently thinks that he should probably get some new ones, each one he has at the moment is slowly falling apart at the seams. Sometimes Alec thinks he can relate. 

“Alec you didn’t ‘just snap’, you downright attacked them! These are Shadowhunters we’re talking about, they’re not just going to let this go. You’ve got to leave now, or they’ll come here and arrest you.” She runs a hand through her hair, dislodging several pins. “Damn it Alec, you said you could handle this!”

She sounds worried, and Alec doesn’t want that. He should be the one worrying about her safety, that’s the way it’s always been. He doesn’t like how the roles are reversed at the moment.

“I’ve already cast some protective spells, I’ll be fine.” He’d done that even before he called Izzy, immediately after he’d banished the Nephilim. Anyone that now entered his apartment that wasn’t Isabelle, Jace or Alec himself wouldn’t be able to see its inhabitants, only the empty rooms. It does take a lot of energy, but he doesn’t have the time yet to cast a more stable spell. For that he’d need to use potions that took a while to make, so for now this would have to do. It was a simple and temporary measure, he’d cast the more complex and effective spell once Isabelle left his apartment. 

After the Nephilim had come to his apartment. Because they would come, of that he was sure.

“For someone as smart as you this was a surprisingly dumb thing to do.” Isabelle says. “You could’ve just answered some of their questions before politely sending them away, this wasn’t necessary!” 

“Oh, so I should just let them come in whenever they like and obey their demands as if I’m their fucking dog?” Alec says while looking her straight in the eye. “Don’t lie to me and say you would’ve let them get away with something like that, I know you wouldn’t.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have,” she says, “Which is exactly why _you_ always handle these kind of things, because usually you know better than this! Shadowhunters have and will always treat us like shit and there’s simply nothing we can do about that. What we _can_ do is trust them to do the right thing, even when they’re being assholes about it. You need to start trusting people Alec.” 

He feels the anger rise in his chest again and tries to keep his voice controlled when he replies. “Really Isabelle? I need to start trusting people?” He huffs out a humourless laugh, “Because the last time I trusted the Nephilim that worked out so great for me didn’t it.”

“Alec-” Isabelle closes her mouth before starting again, in a softer voice this time. “Alec, I’m sorry, you know that’s not what I meant. I just, I wasn’t thinking-”

“Yeah,” Alec cuts in, “Clearly you weren’t.”

\---

Even though he knew it was going to happen sooner rather than later, Alec still startles at the sound of his apartment’s door being knocked down. 

The same Shadowhunters as before stream in, their weapons drawn. Seraph blades and the silver of a knife catch the late-afternoon light, reflecting it onto the walls and the ceiling. 

Alec notes that they’re missing someone. The golden eyed one, Magnus he recalls, isn’t there with them. He remembers his magic hitting the Nephilim in the back, but that couldn’t be the reason for his absence. It would’ve hurt, yes, but that should’ve been all. The spell was meant to send the Shadowhunters away, not cause any lasting damage. There was probably some other reason that he didn’t know about, yet he still felt a little bad. He hadn’t been aiming for him after all.

He feels weirdly exposed, standing in the middle of the room with Church in his arms as the Shadowhunters search for him. They walk around his apartment looking straight through him, like he isn’t even there, and he finds that he kind of likes that. He hates it when people pay attention to him, as it always turns out badly. Staying in the shadows and out of the spotlight, that’s where he belongs.

The spell he used is a pretty difficult one, but once you get what you’re doing it will work almost instantly. It works by creating multiple layers of reality for a limited space, the more layers you make, the more energy needed to keep the spell going. Luckily Alec only needed two, one for Isabelle, Jace, himself and Church, and one for everyone else that entered his apartment. They wouldn’t be able to see him, but Alec as the caster of the spell could still see them, kind off like a two way mirror.

He watches in a detached sort of way as they search his apartment for him, checking every room and looking through his stuff. He feels like a rock in the middle of a stream, the world running past him like water as he just stands there, motionless and unchanging. It doesn’t really matter if they find something illegal anymore, they already want to lock him up anyway. 

After a while Alec can see them starting to realise that they probably won’t find him. Their movements become more laboured and the frowns on their faces deepen. “He isn’t anywhere in the house. I checked every room, closet and even the cupboards.” One of the girls says as she comes out of his bathroom.

“Are you sure?” the other girl asks. She lets out a frustrated sound, kind of resembling a growl. “That means we’re too late, he must have left already. Shit, he could be literally anywhere in the world now since he probably used a portal.”

“We should alert the other institutes,” the guy says, “Ask them to let us know if they find him, and arrest him if they do.”

The white haired girl takes her phone out of her pocket. “On it.”

She starts typing out a message, presumably to the head of the New York Institute so he can send out the message to the others. The brown haired girl is looking through his library, picking up one of the few books written in English and opening it on a random page. Alec is glad to see that she’s careful while handling it, turning the pages gently.

“Wait a minute,” the guy says from where he’s wandered into the kitchen. “Catarina, he might very well come back here.”

The girl, Catarina apparently, looks up from her phone. “Why do you think that? Raphael, the house looks pretty deserted, and he knows we’re after him. Say what you like about him, but he’s definitely intelligent. He’s not going to risk his freedom by coming back here.”

“Look at this,” he says, and shows her the cup of tea Alec had just made for himself. “It’s still hot.”

Catarina eyes the steaming cup, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh I see... Let’s wait around for a bit, shall we? He might come back indeed.”

Alec silently curses himself. He’d completely forgotten about the hot drink, and now the chances of the Nephilim leaving his apartment were rapidly diminishing. Them staying here for a longer period of time was a serious problem, considering the fact that keeping this spell going was exhausting and he hadn’t planned on dealing with that. He takes out his phone and starts writing a text message. He hopes Jace will read it in time.

There’s nothing he can do now without revealing himself, so he waits. He sits down cross-legged on the ground with Church in his lap, and tries to burrow deeper into his sweater. The weather outside is rainy from the early spring but still has the cold temperature from winter. He suddenly remembers why he’d made the tea in the first place as he shivers, pulling the sleeves of his sweater over his hands. Alec looks at the window and watches the raindrops roll down the glass like tears. He feels the soft texture of Church’s fur as he lets his finger comb through it. He listens to the rhythm of the rain. He waits.

There is a buzzing sound as Catarina’s phone receives a new text message. 

“Guys,” she says, “There’s a fight happening in a Downworlder bar a few blocks from here, Ragnor just texted me. He wants all three of us to go there immediately. Apparently some Fae called it in, and it sounded very serious.”

Raphael frowns, “Are you sure we can’t wait here a little longer, or maybe split up? What if our Warlock comes back and we miss him again?”

Catarina is already shaking her head before she even opens her mouth. 

“No, first things first, we’re not splitting up. There’s just the three of us and both situations are dangerous enough to need us all there. If we were to split up, that would mean someone has to either deal with a violent Downworlder fight without any backup, or face Alec on their own. There’s no way either one of those situations can possibly end up going well. Secondly, ‘our Warlock’ can come in five minutes, but it might just as well take weeks or even years before he decides to come back here. The Downworlder fight is happening right now, and it is a situation we can solve by doing something, not waiting around for someone who might not even show up. I say that is a priority.”

“Alright,” he sighs, “I’m coming, but if we miss him...”

“Then you may tell me ‘I told you so’. Now let’s go. Tessa, leave the book, we’ll come back here later and it will slow you down in a fight.” 

Tessa hums in agreement, “It would probably get damaged anyway.” She strokes a hand over the cover and puts the book back on the shelf. They move towards the front door, Raphael looking back one more time, eyes focussed somewhere around the space where Alec’s left shoulder would be. He turns around, following the other Shadowhunters out into the hallway. 

Alec smiles and quickly sends a new text.

_“Thank you Jace”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was the fourth chapter already! It's actually going faster than I thought it would. :) I never knew writing was this much fun! I love sketching out new scenes before describing them, kind of combining art and writing together. I now have this collection of random papers of different sizes with sketches and scribbled down words on them, and it's a mess, but it is a lot of fun to go through as well!
> 
> Once again, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVELY COMMENTS AND KUDOS!!! :3 I love reading them, they leave me with this happy fuzzy feeling for the rest of the day, so thank youuuu <3


	5. In Death's shadow.

Magnus blinks his eyes open slowly, letting them get used to the early morning light entering the room. It isn’t his own room, he realises as he takes in his surroundings. He’s in one of the beds of the infirmary, the crisp white sheets pooling around his waist as he sits up slowly. A light breeze moves the thin white curtains lining the windows. The room is neat and clean. Sterile. 

Definitely not a place where Magnus wants to spend his time. 

He remembers getting hit by a spell and checks for an injury of some sort, but finds nothing, which means he’s probably healed already. The faded iratze scrawled on his chest proves his theory. He quietly leaves the room, trying not to alert anyone that he is up and moving. Whenever he gets hurt badly enough to need to stay in the infirmary Catarina gets worried and won’t let him leave until she’s certain that every cell in his body is in perfect shape. Even though she means well, it is rather bothersome when you’re trying to get something done.

He manages to make it to his own bedroom without waking anyone up. He lets himself fall backwards onto his own mattress, which is infinitely more comfortable than the ones in the infirmary, and sighs in appreciation. He’d personally gone out and bought one of those ultra-comfort ones a few years back, because a good night’s rest was important to him and he wasn’t just going to make do with the flimsy excuse that was the standard mattress of the Institute. He turns his head, looking around at the familiar decor of the room. 

He had always hated how impersonal the rooms in the Institutes were, so when he got his own he’d made sure that it had character. The sheets were a deep red, the pattern on them an even deeper burgundy with some gold accents. Multiple pillows in a matching colour scheme lay artfully spread across the bed, making it look inviting and comfortable. Especially after tiring hunts the comfort of his bed was the best feeling in the entire world. Lots of different lights and candles illuminate the room once it gets dark, giving off a warm light instead of the cold white glow of the frequently used witch lights. He’s got a large bookshelf covering the entire right wall of the room filled with all kinds of books, from mundane novels to informative texts on demonic languages. A few paintings he’s collected over the years decorate the walls. The latest addition is a beautiful painting of a landscape in Indonesia that he bought from a girl with fiery red hair and piercing green eyes. It makes him think of when he lived there with his parents in the Institute of Jakarta. 

The death of his parents is something he’s made peace with over the years. It still stings sometimes, but mostly he can think back and recall the good memories. His mother’s soft melodious voice as she sang lullabies to him, or his father’s focussed eyes when he explained to him how to use different types of weapons. His father had been the head of the institute while his mother had taught young Shadowhunters how to fight demons and draw angelic runes with their Stele. He remembers how she would carefully show him how to form the angles and curves of an iratze, infinitely patient as Magnus copied it by scratching it in the earth with a thin branch. 

Magnus closes his eyes and dozes for a few minutes, thinking about nothing and just letting his mind drift. 

Then Catarina throws open his bedroom door.

“Magnus! Don’t just leave the infirmary without telling anyone.” She’s trying to look stern, but failing quite miserably as he can easily see the worry underneath. “Though I’m really glad you’re awake and back to your old self, at least tell me you’re alright before you move to your own room.”

She sighs, running a hand through her white blond hair. “I was so worried, you were out for two whole days.” 

“Not just Cat though,” Tessa says as she and Raphael enter his room after Catarina, “all of us were worried.”

Even Raphael nods in agreement. 

Magnus sits up against the headboard, making place for the rest of them as they find themselves a spot on the bed. 

“You’ll have to fill me in on what happened.” Magnus says, “After getting hit with that spell I don’t remember anything. I must’ve blacked out or something.”

Catarina jumps straight into the story while Magnus sits back and listens. 

“You did. Immediately after you got hit we ended up at the other side of the town, which was really confusing.” She says. “Ragnor told us later that the purpose of the spell that hit you most likely was getting us as far away from that Warlock’s apartment as possible. It wasn’t specifically meant to harm you, but the impact of such a high dose of concentrated magic is enough to knock you out.”

“You normally would’ve woken up after a few minutes,” Tessa says, “But the stress and little hours of sleep you got really had an impact on your health. Ever since we got this case you’ve been working on it constantly—don’t you try to deny it—we all know that it’s been a long time since you got a decent night’s rest. Your body was exhausted, and that took its toll when you got hit.”

They’re right, he’d spent so many hours doing research and looking for relevant books in the library that he forgot to sleep a lot of the time. He’d be up late at night, the caffeine in his bloodstream the only thing keeping his eyes open while he scanned through book after book looking for something they had missed. Even when he did get some sleep, nightmares would take over, making him wake up in the middle of the night panting and feeling guilty as hell. Usually the silence of his room would calm him down, but after those dreams it only felt accusatory. _While you’re sleeping nice and safe in the comfort of your home, another mundane is dying alone in a deserted alley. Aren’t you supposed to protect them? Isn’t that what you’re here for?_ He’d see their dead eyes behind his eyelids, staring at him as if to say: _You could’ve saved me. If you’d tried harder I’d still be alive._

He could never fall back asleep after that.

“We got permission to arrest him,” Catarina says, effectively pulling his attention back to the conversation, “But when we got to his house there was no one there. We searched every room, but we had to leave when Ragnor texted us about a fight in a Downworlder bar. It turned out to be nothing, and when we got back, the house just simply wasn’t there anymore. The house numbers just skipped number 34 like it had never even been there.”

“I’d like to add,” Raphael says, “That I was against leaving because I _knew_ something was up.” 

Catarina huffs out an irritated breath, this is clearly something they’ve been arguing about, but Raphael continues anyway.

“There was a cup of tea in the kitchen, still hot. I think if we would’ve waited just a bit longer we could’ve caught him when he came back home. We’d have him in chains for the Clave as we speak, but... _Someone_ thought that a dumb Downworlder fight was more important.”

Before Catarina can respond with her own jibe Magnus quickly cuts in, avoiding another fight between the two.

“Do we know if Alec is responsible for the mundane killings or not? He was clearly keeping information from us and he definitely didn’t enjoy our visit one bit. Is it just me or does this all sound really suspicious?”

“No Magnus, I agree,” Raphael replied, “there was something really off about the way he acted. You’re not that paranoid without a reason. The problem now is that we don’t know where he is, and we have no way of finding that out.”

“So why aren’t we out there looking for him?” Magnus said. “If we don’t know where to start, we might as well start right here, in New York.”

He tried to get up, but before he could Catarina and Tessa pushed him back on the bed.

“No Magnus, none of that.” Tessa says with a stern expression on her face. “You were out for two whole days Magnus, and you only just woke up! You should rest and recover for a day at least, preferably more.”

“That’s right,” Catarina says, “We’re not letting you leave this bed until you’re completely recovered, so get comfortable. We need you well rested and healthy.”

“But I’m feeling fine—”

“Nope. You’re staying in bed, and that’s final. Rest, get some sleep, and then we’ll continue with this case.”

He looks from Catarina to Tessa, but both of their faces tell him that they’re not changing their minds. He turns to Raphael with a pleading look, but he shakes his head as well.

“You’ve really pushed yourself too far Magnus. We should’ve seen this earlier, but at least we’re doing something about it now. Relax, this case will still be here tomorrow.” 

Their killer isn’t going to wait for Magnus to get better though. There is no way that Magnus is going to sit here and do nothing for days, but he knows that his friends aren’t going to let him out of bed any time soon, let alone outside of the Institute. So for now Magnus obediently crawls back under the covers, pretending to do as they say and get some sleep.

He’ll get out later.

\---

It’s already dark outside when Alec finally manages to leave the bar that Jace had dragged him into. He’d brought him there after explaining to Alec that this was how Alec was going to repay him for _‘saving his ass from those fucking Nephilim’._ Alec had to come with him to a bar and pay for all the drinks, so naturally Jace went all out and ordered every exotic sounding cocktail he could find, the weirder the name the better. While he was getting completely wasted, Alec had to listen to him whine for hours about this mortal girl he was infatuated with at the moment. The subject had stopped being interesting after the first three minutes. When Jace had begun to talk about her ‘soulful green eyes’ for the sixth time that night Alec had decided that it was high time that he went back home. 

It is when he passes the old antique shop on the way to his apartment when Alec notices something is off. There is a heavy, suffocating feeling in the air that crawls down his windpipe and sinks into his lungs like black smoke. There is only one thing that feels like that. 

_Dark Magic._

The feeling gets stronger as he comes closer to what he realises now is a dirty old alley where rarely anyone comes.

Alec already knows what he’s going to find when he looks past the corner. Every instinct is screaming at him to turn around, to not get involved and save himself, but Alec has never had any sense of self-preservation whatsoever. He has never been able to leave anyone behind. So he runs. Towards danger, towards Dark Magic, towards possible death. 

Even though he’d had a pretty good idea of what he was going to find, there was nothing that could’ve prepared him for this.

Psuchofagi are very rare, part of the first generation of demons to walk the earth. They have the general appearance of a bear, their pelt a midnight black, but parts of their body are covered with black scales like those of a snake. Their eyes are the same glowing red as iron left to heat in a fire, looking like drops of lava against the deep black of the rest of their body. 

This one has it’s claws dug deep into a poor girl’s chest, breaking ribs and tearing flesh to get to the pure soul underneath. She can’t be more than twelve years old. There’s an awful rattling sound as she desperately tries to fill her failing lungs with air, blood bubbling from between her lips and dripping down her chin. Her arms are lying motionless beside her, no longer able to move and protect her from the demon crouched over her small, broken form.

Magic courses through his veins like a wildfire as Alec runs towards them. He can feel the familiar burn of it as he builds up the tension in his hands and fingers, preparing to cast a spell of utter destruction. He doesn’t know if it’ll be enough to kill a demon this ancient and powerful, but he hopes it’ll at least knock it down. There is a sound like a gunshot when Alec casts his spell, letting the tension explode from his fingertips.

For a few seconds the entire alley is bathed in white light as his magic cuts through the air like a lightning strike, before connecting with the Psuchophagos’ side and sending it flying. It crashes into the opposite wall so hard that the glass of the windows on the floor above shatter into a thousand pieces, raining down in the alley like shards of ice. The demon’s black Ichor leaks out of its mouth and the multiple wounds across the rest of its body, and the side where Alec’s spell hit him is blackened, burned and smoking, pieces of white bone visible where the flesh has completely burned off. 

Alec doesn’t even see it, completely oblivious to the destruction he’s caused as he kneels next to the girl. She’s still alive, if only barely, the ragged, uneven breaths passing her lips growing weaker by the second. Her eyes have trouble focussing on his face, and they look so desperate, delirious in pain, but she’s still clinging to life with all the strength that she has left. 

Blood covers his fingers in a sheen of red as he tries to push back the girl’s ribs to where they’re supposed to be. The white light of his magic is no longer vicious and bright, but glows steadily as he throws every ounce of strength and energy he has left into healing the young girl. Flesh and tissue knit back together, and bones reconnect with each other right under Alec’s fingertips.

_Lungs regain their undamaged form and the girl’s breathing becomes stronger._

Exhaustion creeps up on him and weighs him down, covering him like a blanket.

_Ribs get back to their right position and reform the protective cage around the heart and lungs._

Black spots dance at the edge of his vision, narrowing his view to his hands, fluid white tendrils of magic dancing between his blood coated fingers. 

_Tissue and skin knit back together, hiding all previous signs of injury._

A low, dangerous growl sounds right behind him. Alec can feel hot puffs of breath against the back of his neck, making his hairs stand on end. He can feel the demon’s presence so close that he can practically taste the death and smoke that it breathes. He has no energy left to fight back, he can only barely stop himself from crashing to the ground from exhaustion.

He closes his eyes, waiting for the inevitable pain of his flesh being torn apart by claws like daggers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the story continues...
> 
> Just to give you guys a heads up: I've got testweek coming up next week and I haven't done shit for homework or anything, which means I probably won't have time to post a new chapter that week. I will post one that weekend, because that sunday I'm off to China for about two weeks! In short (and hopefully a bit more clear than what I just said haha), there will be a chapter posted around 14 october (maybe one before that but I wouldn't count on it) and the next one will be posted around the 29th of october. Most importantly: I'm not giving up on this story, just very busy hahaha *stressed out crying in the corner* 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the love and support, I cherish every single comment and kudo with all my heart!!! <3


	6. An Uneasy Alliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! My testweek is finished now though, so here is the promised update, I hope you'll enjoy reading it!

It always surprises Magnus how easy it is to sneak out of the Institute when all of its inhabitants are professionally trained Shadowhunters. The heavy doors close behind him, the people inside oblivious to his departure. He adjusts his katana which is strapped across his back and decides which way to go. 

Headlights from cars passing by light up the street at irregular intervals, cutting through the dark of the night. Unlike in his childhood home, the night in New York is never truly black. The light pollution makes it look like eternal twilight stretched out until dawn. It fits the image: ‘the city that never sleeps’. He likes the constant movement of New York, the never ending flow of people going towards unknown destinations, coming and going. Still, he does miss being able to stretch out on the grass and look up at the sky, seeing thousands of stars spilled out across the night sky like a dark canvas.

An uneasy feeling sits in the pit of Magnus’ stomach. It is a mixture of anxiety, anticipation and dread. It has been a week since they’ve found the last body and their demon has yet to break its pattern. There will be another attack today, he’s certain, that will probably end in the death of an unfortunate mundane. Magnus takes in the nameless faces around him hurrying by, wondering if today’s victim is among them. 

There is no way to predict where the Psuchophagos will strike. It could be anywhere at any time, in five minutes, two hours, or maybe the demon has already taken a soul. That won’t stop Magnus from trying to prevent another death though. He’ll go over this like he does when going on a regular patrol: checking all over the city for any sign of trouble, or in this case, a body.

The night air makes his hair fall in front of his eyes as mundanes walk past him, completely oblivious of his presence. The glamour rune cuts a dark shape on his honey coloured skin, the mark the sole reason for their blindness. 

Magnus takes a deep breath before slowly letting it out again, and starts to walk down the street, as ready as he’ll ever be to face the oncoming horror.

\--- 

Even before he hears the pained shout, Magnus knows something is wrong. There is a layered thickness in the air that suggest the use of powerful and destructive spells, and under that the smoke-like texture of the Psuchophagos. His body moves towards the sound as if on its own accord, bringing him closer to the danger that he’s sworn to protect the world from. 

He rounds the corner and ends up facing a dark alley. The scene before him is not what he expected, to say the least. Instead of the—albeit horrific—image of a single dead mundane, there are three beings in the alley. Adrenalin shoots through his veins like wildfire at the sight of the Psuchophagos. Magnus’ hand immediately reaches for his katana while he takes in the rest of the scene. Shards of glass cover the ground, some of them tinged with black Ichor and the deep red of blood. One of the walls has a huge, gaping hole in it with smoke coming off of the edges. A young girl is lying in a pool of her own blood, and Magnus can’t make out if she’s alive or not. Crouched above her is a familiar figure with ink black hair and stormy blue eyes. For a moment Magnus thinks that their suspicions were correct and that Alexander is indeed the killer they’ve been looking for so long.

But then he registers what’s really happening.

The Psuchophagos is heavily wounded, shards of glass stuck in its side as well as covering the ground of the alley. Its side is a mess of burnt flesh and exposed ribs, but the ancient and powerful creature is really hard to kill, and the wounds only slow it down. What has caught Magnus’ attention though, is the fact that the demon has its claws buried deep in Alexander’s shoulders while the latter fights to keep the demon’s head and fangs away from piercing his neck. The muscles in his arms are straining as he holds on to its large head, only barely avoiding getting hurt by its snapping jaw filled with fangs like daggers. 

Alec isn’t the one controlling the demon, that much is clear.

That also means that Alec is an innocent victim about to get killed by an ancient, powerful demon, and Magnus jumps into action.

He launches himself at the demon, purposefully kicking it in its already injured side. A terrible howl tears itself out of the demon’s throat as its claws are dislodged from Alec’s shoulders, and it slides back across the stone ground of the alley. There is a sickening crack of bones and glass as the demon gets up again, little shards and droplets of blood falling from its side like a horrific imitation of rain.

Burning red eyes focus on Magnus as the demon gets ready to attack him. It kicks off the ground and crosses the space between them with one giant leap. Magnus dives away just in time, feeling the air move as claws tipped in red pass mere inches from his head. 

Without missing a beat the demon charges again. The Psuchophagos is _fast_ , and this time Magnus can’t avoid the sharp claws as they cut into him, leaving bloody gashes down his side.

With a hiss of pain Magnus rolls out of the way, keeping a hand pressed to his injured side. The metallic taste of his own blood tells him that it’s not just his side that’s injured. 

With a deep huff of breath the Psuchophagos leaps towards him, but this time Magnus is prepared. He sidesteps and swings his katana in a graceful and controlled ark, cutting deep into the demon’s scaled back. 

The demon staggers back, the multiple wounds making it hard to stay upright. Black Ichor spills out of the wound on its back in a steady flow, covering the ground in the same dark colour. It must realise that there is no way for it to leave this fight alive, let alone win it. Shadows seem to thicken as the Psuchophagos walks back, until they swallow the demon completely and take it away to a place unknown, leaving Magnus alone in the alley with Alec and the mundane girl. 

He turns around to look at them.

Alec’s back is a bloody mess, tears in his flesh and blood trickling from his wounds, yet he doesn’t even seem to notice as he carefully checks the little girl’s heartbeat.

“Is she alive?” Magnus asks, looking at the girl’s pale form. Though there is no outwards sign of injury, the red blood covering the ground under the frail body suggest otherwise.

“Yes,” Alec replies. “She should be alright for now. I healed the worst of her wounds, but she’s lost a lot of blood. I called 911, there will be an ambulance for her soon.” 

There is a tense silence in the air, charged with an unknown force that Magnus can’t place. Before he can come up with something to say, Alec breaks the silence with a cough and asks him a question, his voice hesitant and uncertain.

“You... You saved my life.” He looks up at Magnus and fixes him with an unreadable look. “why?”

Something about that question makes the Warlock sound oddly vulnerable. _He doesn’t think his life is worth saving_. Magnus opens his mouth to reply, but Alec doesn’t let him. He breaks eye contact, the weird vulnerability gone, and lets out a sharp and humourless laugh, his face turning into a sneer.

“Oh never mind, I see. You want me alive so you can give me up to your stupid clave. Capturing me alive will get you more respect than bringing them my head on a plate right? That way they might be able to learn something before they leave me to rot in one of their cells.”

Magnus actually should arrest him and hand him over to the clave. Even though he now knows that Alec isn’t the person behind the murders, he still held back valuable information and attacked a group of Shadowhunters. 

They might kill him for it, lock him up at best. The clave would be glad to be rid of another Downworlder, especially one as powerful as Alexander. Wounded and exhausted as he is at the moment, Alec won’t be able to use his magic to make a portal and escape. Magnus doesn’t kid himself into thinking that he can take him down on his own, even in the state that he is now Alec is powerful and dangerous. However, if Magnus were to call on a group of other Shadowhunters to help him arrest Alec, he does think they would be able to capture him. It would be a huge positive impact on Magnus’ reputation. It would also mean that they would lose all of the information that Alec holds, some of which is probably crucial to solving their case.

He should arrest Alexander. He knows he should.

But Magnus has never been one for following the rules anyway. He prefers to do things his own way. 

“No. I’m not going to turn you in.” Magnus says. Alexander’s head snaps up at his words, looking confused and weary. “I want to make a deal with you. I won’t turn you in to the clave, but in exchange for that you will help me solve this case. No half truths or white lies, I want honesty this time. Do we have a deal?”

Magnus makes the mistake of taking a step towards Alec. The latter flinches back, magic already collecting in his palms, his stance tense and ready to attack. Even though healing is the most draining form of magic and Alec must be feeling vulnerable and exhausted, there is no doubt in Magnus’ mind that if this were to turn into a fight, Alec wouldn’t be a disadvantage. He makes Magnus think of a wounded, cornered animal, lashing out to try and protect himself from getting hurt even worse. Behind the aggressive display he’s afraid, he realises.

Magnus takes a precautionary step back. He doesn’t want this to turn into a fight, to give Alec a reason to attack him. He needs his help. 

Alec narrows his eyes, fixing him with a hateful look. “You can take your deal and _shove it up your fucking ass_. I don’t want it.”

Looking at him, Magnus has a sudden realisation. “Fear makes you rude, Alexander.” 

Alec bares his teeth in a way that resembles a wolfish growl. “I’d take a step back before I show you just how rude I can be, Magnus.”

Magnus does, not wanting to aggravate Alec any further. “You saved this girl,” he starts, carefully looking for any changes in Alec’s expression. “You’ve spent energy on her and brought yourself in danger even though you didn’t have to. You care if she dies or not. Please, if you don’t want to solve this case to help us, do it for them. Do it for her, and other victims like her.”

Alec looks at him, his bright blue gaze piercing, making Magnus feel like he’s looking right through him. There is a tense span of silence as Alec seems to consider his words. 

“It will be just you, I don’t want to deal with any of your friends as well.” Alec eventually says. “I won’t answer any of your questions if they don’t concern the case, and if you happen to witness any other slightly illegal activities... Just remember that I’m the one helping you here, and that I have no need for you.”

Magnus hadn’t been planning on telling any of the others anyway. Apart from Tessa they would all agree that Alec should be turned in to the Clave, throwing away all the potential information he held. Tessa wouldn’t want any secrets between them, so she’d tell Raphael and Catarina, resulting in the same outcome. 

No, Magnus has to do this alone. He is aware that he is playing with fire, that Alexander is someone he knows nothing about except that he’s dangerous and that he dislikes their entire kind, but this is an opportunity he can’t pass up.

Sirens sound in the distance, getting closer to them, most likely the ambulance for the little girl.

Excitement begins to seep through Magnus’ veins. No longer does the case look like something they can’t do anything about, a series of murders without an end in any foreseeable future. Alec is intelligent without a doubt, and a powerful Warlock as well. With him actively helping they’ll put a stop to this, he is certain of it. A grin makes its way across his face.

“Alright then. When do we start?”

Alec rubs a hand across his face, trying to wipe away the blood on it but mostly just managing to spread out the deep red colour. 

“We might as well start now.” He says. “We’ll go back to my apartment, I’ve got some potions there that will help speed up my own healing, and we can start to look into the case there.”

Alec turns and starts walking in the direction of his apartment. With his black hair and dark clothes he would blend into his surroundings, except for the extremely pale shade of his skin, glowing almost white in the light of the moon.

“Oh, and Magnus.”

He looks at Alec, finding himself held in place by his sapphire gaze. 

“If you hurt my cat I will cut you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woahhh that was the sixth chapter already. _I am shooketh_.
> 
> As I said last chapter, today I'll be going to China for two weeks. (I'm so excited YAY :D) Because they block almost every site there, sadly I won't be able to upload during that time. :(  
> I will be writing though, so after that I'll be back on track with a new chapter every two or three days!
> 
> I also want to thank you guys for all the love and support this fic has gotten!!! We recently reached 300 kodus and I might have yelled a little hahaha. I apreciate every kudo, bookmark and lovely comment you guys leave, they really mean a lot to me! <3


	7. Devil's Mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY!!!  
> I know I'm really late with uploading this chapter, and I am so so sorry, please forgive meeeee ;-;  
> I got sick when I came back from China and completely forgot that I had promised an update! >.<  
> Hopefully this chapter will be at least a little bit worth the wait!

Alec grits his teeth as he carefully pours the potion over his wounds. His back feels like it’s on fire, but that means that the potion is doing its job healing his injuries. He can feel Magnus’ eyes on him and he can’t help but double check if his glamour is still in place. It is, of course, he’s been covering his mark for so long now it’s like a second nature to him. He can’t even remember how it feels to not have to hide that part of himself.

“Can I help you with something?” Magnus asks. Alec can see him out of the corner of his eye. He’s standing in the middle of the room, somehow managing to look like he belongs there even though he’s covered in blood and grime. 

Alec thinks back to the look on Magnus’ face when he took apart the delicate layers of reality, manipulating them to allow Magnus into his apartment. Instead of the usual look of disgust and distrust he got when he used magic in the presence of a Shadowhunter, Magnus’ eyes shone with curiosity. For some reason Magnus isn’t like the rest of the Nephilim. He doesn’t have that air of superiority around him that usually surrounds them, neither is he a slave to all the rules that the Clave comes up with. Alec finds that he likes that.

“Unless you have suddenly developed magical healing abilities I don’t think there’s anything you can do.” Alec says, “I’m almost done anyway.”

He puts the cork back on the now mostly empty glass bottle, walking over to his desk to put it back in the bottom drawer with the rest of the healing related stuff. He hears a soft hiss of breath and looks up.

Magnus has lifted the hand that he had held against his side for the previous minutes. No longer hidden by his hand, Alec can now see the tears in Magnus’ shirt. At some places the fabric is stained a darker colour, leaving a residue on his hand. It looks sticky and red with blood, and Alec realises that he hadn’t been the only one who got hurt in the alley.

“Hold on, let me take a look at that.” Alec says. 

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’ve got this,” Magnus holds up a stele for him to see, “I’m fine.”

Looking at his injured side, it is easy to see that he isn’t fine at all. The wounds look painful, dried blood and grime crusted at the edges while a slow trickle of blood makes its way down his body. An iratze will speed up the healing, but Alec knows he can do it quicker. 

“No, seriously, let me. It’ll be faster and there might be traces of poison in the wound that your iratzes can’t do anything about.” He gestures to the couch. “Have a seat, It’ll be done in a few minutes.”

Offering to heal a Shadowhunter is not something Alec ever thought he’d do, yet here he is, doing just that. He can’t bring himself to treat Magnus the way he usually treats Shadowhunters. Magnus has _saved his life_ , risking his own in the process, and Alec feels like that’s a good enough reason for him to make an exception. 

Magnus carefully lowers himself on the couch, grimacing slightly as the movement tears the wound open even further. It must hurt like hell, but he doesn’t make a sound except for a slight hitch in his breathing. 

Alec sits down next to him and reaches for his shirt, looking up into his eyes, asking for permission. At Magnus’ slight nod he carefully lifts the material up. It sticks to the wound in some places, the dried blood making it hard to separate the fabric from the wound. Instead of prying it loose and potentially damaging his side even more, Alec snaps his fingers and the shirt disappears altogether. 

Magnus looks startled for a moment at the sudden lack of a shirt. “Do you randomly vanish people’s clothing a lot, or do you just want me half naked that badly?” He asks dryly.

“Unless you want to heal with pieces of fabric fused into your skin I think removing the shirt was a necessary thing to do.” Alec replies without looking up from where he’s examining the wound. 

Magnus is hurt even worse than Alec thought. The Psuchophagos’ claws have left behind deep gashes in his side, and there’s one part where he can even see a little bit of bone. Some dirt has gotten into the cuts, sticking to the partly dried blood coating the edges. He lets his fingertips graze gently down Magnus’ side, eliciting a shiver in response, as he cleans the wounds with his magic. The pure white light glows softly in the palms of his hands, slowly seeping down his fingers. 

Pressing down against the wound carefully, he allows his magic to flow from his hands to Magnus’ side. It sinks into his skin, healing the injury from the inside out. He can feel Magnus slowly relaxing under his hands, the warmth and sleepiness that comes from healing taking the tension out of his muscles. Alec tries to ignore the way Magnus’ abs feel under his fingertips, the way he looks. His honey coloured skin marred with scars and runes speaking of battles fought and won, years of hard work and training becoming visible in the form of toned muscles.

Alec can feel his cheeks heat, a blush forming on his own pale skin. He swallows and looks away, focussing his attention solely on the healing of the wound.

“There, all done.” He takes his hands off of Magnus’ side, trying not to think about how despite the scars his skin had been so soft and warm.

Magnus moves his hand to feel his now healed side, hesitantly pressing against the spot where only a few minutes ago there had been a gaping wound. 

“You can’t even see a scar,” Magnus says while examining the spot. “Thank you.”

He looks into his eyes, and there’s real, honest gratitude in there. It’s not something Alec is used to seeing in a Shadowhunter. He turns his head away, breaking the eye contact, and clears his throat, trying to get rid of the weird feeling in his chest.

“I should probably get you something to wear, since I kind of vanished your shirt.” 

He gets up from the couch and walks over to his bedroom, looking in his closet for the most presentable looking sweater he owns. He ends up settling for a washed-out grey one that used to be black at some point. At least it doesn’t have any holes in it.

He hands it over to Magnus, who raises an eyebrow but otherwise keeps quiet about his lack of fashion sense. 

“So,” Magnus starts while pulling the sweater over his head, “Shall we begin working on the case?”

“Sure, tell me what you’ve got so far.”

Alec drops down on the couch, pulling Church into his lap and relaxing back against the pillows. He promised that he would help with solving this case, and since Magnus has kept his part of the deal, he will as well. He looks at Magnus, _really_ looks at him, studying his posture and the micro expressions on his face, looking for a sign that’ll tell him if he’s making the right decision by trusting him. 

Magnus is sprawled on the couch next to him with one leg casually crossed over the other. He always has an air of confidence around him, certain of his skills and talents, ready for any situation. However, by paying closer attention to his face Alec can see that he’s not as perfectly put together as he pretends to be. There are slight bags under his eyes and because of the fight his dark hair is no longer perfectly styled, making him look younger but at the same time a little worn out. Alec can see lots of things, but there’s nothing that points to Magnus planning on betraying him. So, he decides to take a risk and trust him, just for now.

“Alright,” Magnus says. “So what we know is this: Someone is controlling a Psuchophagos and taking souls from seemingly random mundanes. All of them are a different age, have different appearances, different social class, etc. The person controlling the demon is probably really powerful and must have at least some knowledge about dark magic. Because of that we were thinking of a Warlock, but it could be a Fae as well, or even a Vampire. The problem is that we have no clue what they want to do with the souls, so we don’t even know what we’re trying to stop.”

Alec nods his head. “Whoever’s responsible for all this already has enough power to control a Psuchophagos, so that means they’re not using the souls as a source of power. That leaves us with two options: they’re either using them for a ritual or as ingredients for a spell or potion. You’re right about the person probably knowing some stuff about dark magic, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re looking for a Downworlder. Rituals, and even some spells and potions, can be performed by anyone as long as they follow the instructions right. With those instructions even a mundane can do it. Honestly, I’ve seen them do dumber things than summoning a minor demon or two.”

Magnus nods and stays quiet for a while, thinking over the new information. He leans forward while resting his elbows on his knees, his hair falling into his eyes as he stares unseeingly at the night sky outside.

“Is there a way to find out what kind of rituals and spells the souls can be used for?” Magnus eventually asks.

“Actually,” Alec says, “there is. Hold on, let me get something.”

Carefully putting Church down, he walks over to the left side of the room. The entire wall is occupied by a floor to ceiling bookshelf, a ladder standing leaned against it so you can get to the top shelves. Instead of taking a book from one of the shelves, Alec casts a quick spell, his long, pale fingers twisting reality in a few calculated hand movements. A part of the bookcase opens like a door, revealing the hidden room behind it. With a snap of his fingers the light comes on, illuminating the space and reflecting off of the multiple glass bottles. In here he keeps his most valuable magical possessions, from rare spell books to dangerous potions and ancient enchanted artefacts.

“First your apartment, now this, just how many hidden places do you have?” Magnus asks, looking at the hidden room with an incredulous expression on his face.

“Three in total.” Alec replies as he enters the room, searching the shelves for the book he’s looking for. “The ones you just named and one other in the kitchen.”

“What’s the one in the kitchen for?”

“To keep Jace from finding my secret stash of chocolate.” 

He can hear Magnus laugh behind him. “Really?” He says, and Alec can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah, really. What did you think I used it for, hiding all my illegal possessions? That’s what this one’s for.” Alec says. He moves a bottle filled with a shimmering blue liquid that’s as cold as ice, using it to shine light on the titles of different books. “There it is...”

He takes the old, leather-bound book off the shelf, carefully wiping the dust off its cover. 

Magnus lets out a disbelieving laugh. “You have got to be kidding me. That’s the _Liber Animarum_ , the Book of Souls. That book is on the list of dangerous magical artefacts that have gone missing, and that the Clave is still looking for. How did you even get that?”

“If I recall it correctly, I think it was part of our deal that these kind of slightly illegal discoveries would stay unmentioned.”

“And they will.” Magnus assures him. “It’s not like I have a choice anyway, it’s kind of difficult to mention this to the Clave without letting them know I’m secretly meeting up with a fugitive.”

Alec can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up in his chest at Magnus’ pointed look. “I’m glad we agree on that then.” He says.

He places the heavy, leather-bound volume on the table, the gold in which the title is written gleaming in the light. “In here is written down everything about Soul Magic. With a little bit of luck, we’ll be able to find out what the Souls are used for, or at least narrow it down to a few options. Do you know Mythorgian?”

Magnus frowns slightly at the alien sound of the demon language. “I understand it, but I can’t speak it.”

“Good thing then that you don’t need to.” He picks up another book from the shelf and hands it to Magnus. “This one’s about everything we know of the Psuchophagos. There might be something helpful in it on who can control it, and how.”

Magnus takes the book from him, spending some time examining the cover before he opens it at a random page and starts with translating it. A comfortable silence stretches between them, both of them immersed in their own books. Time slips away without either of them realizing. It is completely quiet except for the distant sounds of the city, the occasional turning of a page and Church’s soft purring.

It is hours later that Alec speaks up again, his stomach had started making protesting noises and only then did he realise that it was far past midnight. “Do you want something to eat? I’m getting kind of hungry.”

Magnus looks up from his book, rubbing a hand across his face and letting out a yawn. “Uh sure, I could eat.”

“Do you like Thai food?” Alec asks, “There’s this great place not far from here, especially their noodles are really good.”

“That sounds great, I can really use some warm food right now.”

Magnus almost spills noodles all over himself as a full portion suddenly appears in his lap. He curses and quickly puts the food on the table to avoid actually spilling it and making a mess. The smell of meat, herbs and different spices fill the air, making Alec’s stomach growl in anticipation.

“...Did you just steal this?”

“No, not really.” Alec says, “I left money on the counter, so it doesn’t count as stealing. This way we won’t have to wait for delivery either.”

“Damn, I wish I could get myself food with a snap of my fingers.” Magnus says, before starting on his noodles. At the first bite he lets out a groan of satisfaction. “This is actual heaven.”

“Perks of being a Warlock.” Alec says as he begins attacking his own noodles, breathing in their spicy scent.

“Speaking of, do you not have a Warlock’s mark?” Magnus suddenly asks. “I’ve been wondering about that for quite a while now. The marks are usually pretty obvious, the most subtle one I’ve seen was a different eye colour. Yet it looks like you don’t have one, or do you conceal it? Is that what the permanent layer of glamour is for?”

Alec can feel himself tense up at the words. They bring back unwanted memories of pain and betrayal that he’d rather keep buried. When he can finally manage to find his voice, it comes out cold and distant. “I think I mentioned something about personal questions.”

He can feel Magnus’ eyes on him, questioning, but doesn’t acknowledge them. This isn’t something he wants to talk about, least of all with a Shadowhunter. 

Magnus takes the not so subtle hint and leaves the topic alone. Instead he comments about the quality of the food and updates Alec on what he’s found out about the Psuchophagos so far. They eat the rest of their meal sharing easy and light conversation, straying far from topics that are too personal.

He likes Magnus more than any other Shadowhunter, but that doesn't mean he trusts him. He's made the mistake of trusting one of the Nephilim before, and he won't make it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was the end of another chapter!  
> I'm not really happy with how this one turned out because for some reason it was really difficult to write and I rushed it a little, but I promise the next chapter will be better!
> 
> I'd like to thank Innerspace for pointing out that I've been writing Catarina's name wrong this entire fic (Oh THE SHAME XD) But I've changed it now, so all should be well~
> 
> I want to take a quick moment to thank all of you for all your love and support! It is such an amazing feeling to know that there are people out there that enjoy my writing and would like to see more of it!!!  
> 


	8. Broken Souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit (*cough* _extremely_ *cough*) late! Life has been pretty stressful the past few weeks and I didn't want to rush the chapter...  >-< I hope you'll enjoy the update though!

A taxi honks as Magnus narrowly avoids crashing into it when he crosses the street. The heavy rain blurs his vision, making it hard to see clearly and turning people into unidentifiable shapes like washed-out watercolours. 

He pulls his cap further down over his eyes. It doesn’t do much to keep him dry, but it does keep some of the water away from his eyes, making sure that as he blinks little droplets from his lashes new ones don’t take their place. His ankle aches were he got mauled by the demon they hunted down today. Catarina had drawn an iratze for him but the rain and cold make it act up again, an almost numb kind of pain shooting up his leg every time he puts his weight on it.

He knows he’s almost there though, the familiar buildings encouraging him to move forward, so he grits his teeth and keeps walking. At this point he’d be able to find his way with his eyes closed, feeling like he’s been here a thousand times before when in reality it’s been only about a week since he started coming here regularly. 

‘Here’ being a worn but well maintained apartment building in Brooklyn. The home of a certain blue eyed Warlock and his equally grumpy cat. A smile pulls at his lips at the memory of Alec sitting huddled up in his armchair, absentmindedly scratching the feline behind its ears as he reads some ancient text written on crumbling yellow paper. 

They’ve been doing a lot of research together. Long nights spent reading books about magic and demons, spells and potions, ancient and forbidden rituals. Staying awake for hours until his eyes started to droop and his yawns became more and more frequent, until eventually he had to leave if he didn’t want to pass out on his way back to the Institute. So far the long nights haven’t really paid off yet. They still don’t know who is behind the killings and what they’re using the souls for, but at least they’ve made some progress. Alec has made a list of all the known uses for souls and Magnus has been crossing off those that don’t fit with what they already know. Meanwhile Alec has also made a map of New York that will alert them of the presence of Dark Magic anywhere in the city. Magnus had been shocked to see so many places light up in different colours, and Alec had explained to him that those were mostly places he knew. “Minor things, nothing to worry about,” he’d said. “You’ll get what I mean when you see the stain that the magic of a Psuchophagos leaves behind on maps like these.”

The statement didn’t exactly put Magnus’ mind at ease.

He wonders when Catarina and the others will confront him with his newly found love for ‘walks’. He knows they suspect he’s hiding something but he doesn’t think they have any idea just how serious it is this time. 

They know he sneaks out frequently to go to different clubs to enjoy New York’s night life, some of them on the slightly more shady side. These places are crawling with troubled people looking to forget their life’s struggles, drowning their problems in another round of tequila shots, but they also attract a different kind of crowd. It is in these kind of places that he comes in contact with Downworlders in a non violent way, everyone too drunk or high to care whether the marks on his skin are tattoos or angelic runes. He’s danced with Vampires, been hit on by Werewolves, watched as the odd Warlock charmed some random mundane. He’s gotten high off of fairy dust and has made a reputation for himself as a dangerous playboy, a heartbreaker with a charming smile. It’s not like his friends approve, and Tessa has tried to stop him on multiple occasions, but in reality they can’t keep him from going. 

Which is probably the reason they haven’t asked him where he goes when he says he’s ‘going for a walk’. 

He doesn’t know what they’d do if they knew he was meeting up with Alec, who’s technically still a fugitive. What he does know is that whatever’s the case, it wouldn’t be pretty.

He comes to a stop in front of the door when he finally reaches Alec’s apartment and rings the doorbell. There is a short silence in which he listens to the sound of heavy raindrops hitting the pavement, forming puddles alongside the street that show the reflection of different houses. Then a buzzing sound permeates through the air and he makes his way inside the apartment.

\---

Magnus breathes in the sweet aroma coming off of his hot chocolate. He takes a sip, savouring the rich flavour, and observes Alec over the edge of his mug. 

He is curled up on the armchair in front of the fire place, his legs tucked under his body. Little strands of his ink black hair keep falling in his face, and his brows are slightly furrowed in concentration as he studies the book in front of him, occasionally taking notes and crossing out older ones. The sleeves of his sweater are too long and slide down his arms over his hands. He pushes them back up to his elbows with a slight sigh of irritation, only for the sleeves to slowly slide down again. He wonders why Alec seems so adamant about wearing washed-out sweaters that are at least a few sizes too big on him. He mentioned it once and got a noncommittal hum and something about the loose fit being more comfortable. 

They’d both been doing research for the past two hours, and Magnus thought it was about time he took a break. After his third visit Alec had apparently deemed Magnus worthy enough to allow him access to his secret chocolate stash in the kitchen, which included a recipe and the ingredients for the best hot chocolate Magnus had ever tasted in his life. He’s made it some sort of reward for himself: a few hours of research and then he allowed himself a break to drink a mug of hot chocolate. He remembers Alec mentioning a certain ‘Jace’ being banned from his stash and he feels kind of sorry for the guy. He’s _missing out._

He drains his mug faster than he would have liked, and stares mournfully at the bottom of the cup, wishing it would magically fill itself again.

It doesn’t.

With a despairing groan, which earns him an amused look from Alec, he puts the cup down on the floor next to where he’s sitting and picks up his list describing possible uses of souls. Almost all of the options are crossed out at this point, only a few remaining. Magnus doesn’t like any of them.

He squints at the paper, trying to make out the words written down on its surface. Alec’s handwriting is neat, but it’s _small_. He figures out what it says eventually _(#56, spell, using souls to speak with the dead)_ and looks it up in one of the books scattered around him. After a few minutes he finds the passage that he’s looking for.

_...and can therefore also be used to contact the dead. The spell for this specific activity was first used in the twelfth century in Italy and, though many have tried, has not successfully been performed since._

_The necessary ingredients for the spell are not that hard to come by, but one will need copious amounts of patience to succeed in obtaining them. The required ingredients are:_

_-Bone of the deceased, bleached in the light of a full moon_  
_-Candles dipped in the blood of the one that will cast the spell_  
_-Three different old, mortal souls, preferably aged ninety or above—_

Magnus picks up his pen and crosses option 56 off of the list. All of the victims have been relatively young so far, and there is no way someone looking for an old soul will try to find it in a twelve year old.

With a sigh he moves on to the next option on the list. He hums a soft tune to himself as he makes sense off Alec’s miniature handwriting. _#57, ritual, using souls to summon a Prince of Hell._ He raises his eyebrows at that one. _'Well, that sounds ominous',_ he can’t help but think. He trades the spell book he’s holding for one with a cover that has some very suspicious red-brown stains on it that he’d rather not think about. The title is written in a demonic language and loosely translates to ‘Contacting darkness and breathing Hellfire.’

Nice.

It takes a while to find what he’s looking for because the ancient book isn’t as neatly organized as the newer ones are. He has a gruesome reminder as to why this particular book is banned by the Clave as he comes across a section explaining how to make someone cut off strips of their own meat in vivid detail. It talks about keeping them alive for as long as possible, able to feel the pain but unable to stop themselves from causing it. There’s an illustration under it depicting a woman missing the skin and meat around her jaw and mouth, her crazed expression completed by a lipless grin with blood dripping down her face and neck. She holds a shard of glass against her left eye, the intention clear.

Magnus quickly turns the page, a sick feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

He tries to gloss over the rest of the book, avoiding the more horrifying details and illustrations. At last he finds the right part and starts to read in earnest. There is no illustration under this one, but it is the only one so far that has a warning written at the top, telling the reader in red ink to proceed with caution as this can have grave consequences for more than just the one performing the ritual and their direct surroundings.

_The Ritual of Broken Souls._

_Before continuing one would do well to remember that powers too great for this world should not be brought into it unless strictly necessary. Magic of this calibre should not be toyed with, and, failing to follow this advice, one should be prepared to face the consequences.  
The Ritual of Broken Souls allows one to summon one of the nine Princes of Hell. Caught in the summoning circle, the Prince will grant one wish of the caster. After fulfilling said wish the binding spell will be broken and the Prince will return to his own realm. Energy for the ritual and binding spell is directly linked to the caster’s life force. In case of the death of the Caster before the ritual has been completed the binding spell will automatically be broken and no wishes shall be granted. _

_To successfully perform the ritual one will need to be prepared to sacrifice a lot more than just time. To begin the ritual the caster will kill a loved one, spilling their blood on ground stained with fire and death until there is no more blood left to spill. This will start a period of ten years in which the ritual needs to be finished. In these ten years a list of ingredients needs to be acquired:_

_-Demonic Ichor mixed with the blood of the caster under the light of a blood moon_  
_-Starlight, captured in a crystal bottle at the winter solstice_  
_-Bone belonging to someone that died a violent death at the hand of a demon_

_These ingredients allow one to summon and gain control over the ancient demon known as the Psuchophagos. This should be done in the tenth year. During this time one needs to collect the items listed below:_

_-Fifteen candles made of wax burnt black by Hellfire_  
_-One angelic feather, forcefully taken_  
_-Five Souls of the Innocent, marked with agony_

While he’d been reading, the sick feeling was growing in the pit of his stomach, making him want to throw up. An innocent soul was that of someone who hadn’t realised yet what a cruel place the world is. Someone oblivious to all the pain and suffering. A child. Everything was described in such an emotionless way, as if this was some quickly put together grocery list, as if they weren’t talking about torture and murder of fucking _children._

Whether a soul is innocent or not can only be discovered once the victim is already dead. That means twelve young children have been murdered in horrible and agonizing pain, just to leave a mark on their pure souls, not sure if they’d even be used or not. More than half of them have died pointless deaths, have been killed for _no reason at all._

“Magnus, hey!” Alec’s clear voice brings him back to the present. He looks up at Alec to find him staring at him with a look of concern on his face. “Are you alright?”

It takes Magnus a moment to realise he’s gripping the book so hard his knuckles have gone white. He forces himself to relax his hold and slowly lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“I think I know what the souls are used for.” He is surprised by how steady his voice sounds when he feels like screaming. He forces himself not to. He’s afraid that if he starts he will never stop.

He’s got Alec’s full attention now. Sapphire eyes are fixed on his face, trying to figure out what caused his sudden distress.

“They’re summoning a Prince of Hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's chapter eight already! Man, I was _not_ planning for this story to have this many chapters hahahaha.  
>  I know this chapter is a bit shorter, that's because I don't want to split up what's coming next into two parts. That does mean that the next chapter will be a little longer!
> 
> Once again, thank you for sticking with me, my story, my irregular updates and fucked up sleeping schedule hahahahaha. All your kudos and comments really make my day!!! <3


	9. Fighting Fire with Fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! A happy New Year to all of you lovelies!!! :D
> 
> It is I, updating from this weird deserted little tourist shop in France while my sister is doing some interesting dance choreography next to me. Two adorable old ladies kept staring at us with those amused old lady smiles and eventually just wished us a happy new year and moved on, hahaha. 
> 
> Sorry for the lack of updates the past few weeks! It was testweek again which means stress for my ass because I didn't do shit about homework or anything nice and responsable like that... (Why am I like this?) I'm on vacation now, which meant that I didn't have any wifi to upload the new chapter, but as mentioned before I have found a place! Ain't I a resourceful muffin. (I am not.) This chapter is longer than the usual ones though, so I can at least give you guys that as a present for waiting so long for me to update. (It's like, almost 6k instead of the usual 2 wtf?)
> 
> Once again, I hope you all have a lovely New Year and all that jazz <3

Alec stifles a laugh behind his hand, masking it as a cough. It would be kind of inappropriate to laugh right now, considering the dire situation they’re in, but he just can’t help himself. He’s already seen so many horrible things in his life that he feels desensitized towards them, like the reality of the situation just can’t reach him anymore.

Safety is a concept that’s become so foreign to him, he honestly doesn’t think he knows what it feels like.

All his life he’s been the protector, at first only looking after Isabelle, but later Jace as well. He’s always on high alert, watching his siblings’ backs but fighting alongside them as well. While he’s looking out for them, making sure they’re safe, there’s no one doing the same for him. And he doesn’t need anyone to. It is tiring, because it means that he not only has to look after his siblings but himself as well (and he frequently forgets the latter). However, he’s managed to survive this way for centuries. He wouldn’t have been able to do that by acting like a damsel in distress, whining in self pity about how hard his life is. So, he looks for the fun things in life, and in this case that’s the mess that is his siblings’ and Magnus’ first meeting. 

The first thing he did after finding out someone was trying to summon a Prince of Hell was call Jace and Isabelle, asking them to come over. The three of them have always worked great as a team, and he seems to be able to think clearer with them nearby, the younger two ready to point out the flaws in his plans or contribute their own ideas. They got to his apartment as fast as they could, and seeing them always makes Alec feel better, no matter how bad the circumstances are. To say they were surprised to find that the friend he had mentioned over the phone turned out to be a Shadowhunter would be an understatement. 

Isabelle’s perfectly groomed eyebrows rise, and her eyes find Alec’s face, looking at him questioningly. Alec pretends not to notice and focuses on Jace instead, who’s always been less observant than Izzy. With everything that’s going on, he really doesn’t want to deal with her inevitable _‘I thought you hated Shadowhunters with a passion so what changed’_ speech.

Jace sits in the chair across from Magnus, glaring at him so intensely that Alec is surprised he hasn’t spontaneously caught fire yet. Alec has to give it to Magnus, he looks straight back at Jace with one arched eyebrow, giving of a vibe that says _‘I am trying to be impressed but honestly just can’t be bothered’_. It only seems to aggravate Jace further.

Alec shares an amused look with Isabelle, and together they wait for Jace to speak his mind. With his eyes still fixed on Magnus, Jace addresses Alec in a low voice, his teeth clenched.

“Alec. Why does he get do that, and I don’t?” 

He makes a vague gesture in Magnus’ general direction, irritation visible in the movement. Magnus simply keeps staring back at him with an expression of pure disinterest, before he looks down and pretends to clean invisible dirt from under his fingernails.

Alec clears his throat. “Sorry Jace, I don’t understand what exactly you’re talking about.”

Jace makes a sound that is a mix between a yell and a growl, and madly points at the cup in one of Magnus’ hands. 

“THIS! I am your brother, you’ve known me for _centuries_ , and yet he gets access to the chocolate stash instead of me!” He turns to look at Alec with an accusing glare. “What kind of betrayal is this, Alec!” 

Whatever Magnus was expecting, it wasn’t that. He finally breaks his poker face and laughs, his golden green eyes looking like they’re illuminated from within. _He truly is an attractive person_ , Alec notes, observing the way Magnus’ eyes scrunch up in delight at Jace’s words. He then immediately mentally berates himself for thinking that because _what the fuck, Alec?_ He coughs awkwardly to hide his discomfort and turns his attention back to the scene happening in front of him. Magnus fixes Jace with a look and takes an exaggerated sip from his hot chocolate, letting out a soft moan as he savours the taste. 

“Oh, and the privileged fucker is a sassy little shit as well now is he?” Jace spits out the words like they’re venom, but it doesn’t really have an effect on anyone in the room. Magnus just laughs and Izzy walks over to Jace, wrapping her arms around him in a way that looks more like a chokehold than a hug.

“Ahw, life’s hard now isn’t it Jace?” She coos at him in an exaggerated sweet voice, her amusement visible in the way her eyes are gleaming. “You’re my brother and I love you, but you can be a really petty brat sometimes.” 

Jace shrugs her off with a petulant pout on his face that does nothing to dispel the image of a bratty little kid. Izzy laughs and tucks her hair behind her pointed ears, the long silky strands falling down her back like a waterfall of ink. She smacks Jace on the back of his head before getting up and wiping nonexistent dirt off of her bejewelled dress.

“Alec and I are going to make ourselves something to drink as well. In the mean time,” She points at Jace and Magnus. “Behave.”

\---

Alec knew that this was coming, but he’d hoped to put it off for a little while longer. He likes to think that he’s perfected the art of avoiding things by now (he’s had quite a long time to do it, considering he’s immortal and all), but his strategy of ‘pretend that it’s not happening and it isn’t happening’ sadly doesn’t seem to work this time. Isabelle has always been an observant person, and since she knows Alec better than anyone else she can read him like an open book. Which is why it doesn’t come as a surprise that she pounces the second she’s alone with him.

“So, I see you’ve made a new friend.” She says, aiming at casual but missing by a mile. Alec can feel her gaze boring holes in his back.

He waits with replying until he’s finished mixing the whipped cream and melted chocolate, giving him some time to choose his words carefully. He puts the mixture on the furnace and turns on the heat, stirring a few times before he finally answers his sister.

“Yeah, it seems like I have.” Alec cringes internally at his awkward answer. So much for picking his words carefully.

“No offence Alec, but you’re the least trusting person I know, especially when it concerns Shadowhunters. Can you really blame me for thinking it’s odd that you’re suddenly friends with one?” Isabelle shifts her stance to her other foot, crossing her arms only to let them drop to her sides again. “I’m just trying to look out for you, okay?”

Alec sighs and turns away from the hot chocolate that’s heating up on the furnace. “I know you mean well Izzy, I do. It’s just... He’s nice. Someone I can get along with surprisingly well and that can keep up with my way of thinking. I don’t meet people like that often.” Alec realizes that he isn’t exactly making a clear point here, so he finishes with a vague “I know what I’m doing.” It sounds less certain than he would’ve liked it to.

His sister must think so too, because she raises an unimpressed eyebrow and purses her lips together ever so slightly. “Sure, Alec. Whatever you say.”

He moves to mess up her perfectly styled hair in retaliation when he hears the sizzling sound of the hot chocolate boiling over. He curses and shoots one last judging glare at his sister before moving to quickly turn off the heat. He pours the mixture over in two mugs and leaves the kitchen as fast as he can. He knows Isabelle isn’t ready to let the matter drop yet, but she isn’t going to confront him with it in front of Magnus and Jace either.

Upon entering the room he’s met with the two of them bent over one of the maps he has drawn earlier this week. Magnus is pointing at a spot on the map that Jace seems to be talking about.

“What’s going on?” He asks as he walks over to them with the two steaming mugs in his hands. After a second of hesitation he hands one over to Jace, who looks positively delighted with the drink.

“Your brother was explaining what the different spots on the map are.” Magnus says, frowning at said object in concern. “There’s so much more Dark Magic going on than I thought. Honestly, back at the Institute we suspected that you were the only one in New York able to control Dark Magic, but looking at this there are at least five more.” 

Isabelle looks over Jace’s shoulder and points at three of the spots. “That’s probably me, and the other ones are Alec and Jace. We’re trying to set up a way of communicating between the three of us that’s untraceable, magically or otherwise. It’s harmless though, so nothing to worry about.”

“As for the other two,” Alec continues, “I fear that this one is because of me as well. I summoned a minor demon there last week, so the trace is still pretty fresh. The other one is the result of a protection spell on a bar owned by friends of mine. It’s just to keep it hidden from the Nephilim,” He casts an apologetic look in Magnus’ direction, “So it’s nothing to worry about either.”

Magnus lets out a laugh and looks at Alec. “So technically, you actually are the main user of Dark Magic in the city. Do rules just become meaningless after half a century or something?”

“As if you’re one to talk. Enlighten me Magnus, whom of the Nephilim know that you’ve been meeting up with me lately?” Alec smirks at him, knowing that he’s won this round.

Magnus just huffs out an amused breath and rolls his eyes. He looks like he’s about to say something when the patterns on the map suddenly change. Everyone watches in stunned silence as a dark stain seems to spread across the map like a disease. 

“I’m guessing that this is what major use of Dark Magic looks like.” Magnus eventually says, his eyes still focussed on the stain as it keeps growing, covering almost the entire surface of the map by now.

Alec’s blood turns cold at the sight. The situation is even more severe than he had imagined. However, with that realization comes a familiar sort of steely determination. They’re in big trouble, and someone needs to come up with a plan to fix it.

“Jace, Izzy, Magnus,” He looks at each of them in turn. “Stay here. It might take some time, but with the information we have we can figure out where the actual ritual is being held, and that way we’ll be able to find whoever is doing this. Someone needs to keep an eye on the map while the others look into that.”

“What about you?” Jace asks.

“While you look for the location I’m going to find this demon, and I’m going to kill it. This has been going on for far too long, and we’re going to put an end to it _now._ ” He gets up and starts to move towards the hall, only to be stopped by Magnus’ hand on his wrist. He turns around sharply, coming face to face (or rather face to chin, the Nephilim is annoyingly tall) with him.

“Magnus, we can’t waste time like—”

“I’m coming with you.” Magnus says it with such unwavering confidence, like it’s a given fact. “You’re not going to fight that demon alone. You said it yourself, it’s a dangerous and powerful one. You’ll need someone to watch your back.”

“No, I don’t. I am perfectly capable of doing this by myself, like I’ve done for the past few centuries.” Alec bites back. He tries to shake of Magnus’ hand on his wrist, but Magnus isn’t loosening his grip in the slightest. 

“No, I mean it.” He says. “In fact, with the two of us together we might even be able to capture the demon alive. That way we can track down its master a lot faster. You don’t have to do everything alone, Alexander.”

Alec looks at Jace and Izzy, gauging their reactions.

“Alec, go.” Jace says. “Let Magnus come with you. It is safer, and Izzy and I will be fine doing the research with just the two of us.”

Isabelle nods in agreement. “Like Jace said, we’ll be fine.” 

Alec waits for a few seconds more, but it seems that he’s not getting out of this one. He sighs and picks up a silver dagger, putting it in the sheath attached to his belt. Just as he turns to leave, his sister calls out once more, a hint of fear colouring her voice. 

“Alec.” He turns towards her. “Please promise me that you’ll be careful.” Her normally confident expression has changed into a worried one, her dark eyes looking large and concerned. 

Alec catches her gaze and holds it, trying to look and sound more confident than he actually feels when he tells her: 

“I promise Izzy, I will.”

\---

The entire cab ride is filled with anxious silence. Using a portal was not an option since it is way too risky to use one when the destination is full of Dark Magic that can mess with the spell. They could arrive in a completely different place, or even not arrive at all. Still, Alec thinks this might be worse. Every minute spent in the cab is another minute wasted, and he counts them in his head while tapping his fingers against his thigh in an anxious rhythm. The second they reach their destination he jumps out of the car, hastily throwing some bills at the driver. It’s probably more than they owe him, but right now Alec couldn’t care less. 

The metallic scent of blood hangs in the air, along with the heavy, charged feeling of the Psuchophagos’ magic. It makes his stomach drop and he takes a deep breath before moving again. It’s not hard to figure out where they need to be: there’s a trail of blood leading towards the deserted parking lot before them. He starts running, his footsteps echoing across the empty space as the scent of blood gets thicker the closer he gets to the demon and its victim. He storms past another car, vaguely aware of Magnus swiftly following him, and abruptly stops, narrowly avoiding slipping in the pool of blood that’s covering the ground. Dread fills his lungs as he takes in the scene before him.

They’re too late.

A little boy is half propped up against a battered looking pick-up truck, his eyes staring vacantly at some undefined point on the horizon. There is a gaping hole in his chest, broken ribs lying cracked open, revealing the horrible state of the organs inside. The poor kid is waxy looking and incredibly pale as result from the huge loss of blood. Blood that is now covering the ground, looking almost black in the artificial streetlights. A part of Alec wants to throw up, so he keeps his mouth shut and instead focuses on getting his breathing back under control. 

That’s when he notices movement out of the corner of his eye. He turns sharply and sees the Psuchophagos dropping the white smoke-like soul of the boy into the moving shadows it has created. Manipulating shadows like this is a way of transportation that only demons like the Psuchophagos can use. The demon is undoubtedly using it to bring the soul to its master. Maybe Magnus is right, maybe they can use the demon to track down the one who’s controlling it. However, that would mean that they have to capture it alive, and that’s a whole other story. One thing is certain though: they can’t let the Soul Eater escape. So, when the demon calls on the shadows a second time, this time for its own transportation, Alec does something stupid but effective.

“Hey!” he calls out, “Over here, you asshole!”

A ferocious growl tears through the air and the Psuchophagos turns towards him at once. Its red eyes are focussed on Alec now, which is both good and slightly worrying, because while he has successfully managed to prevent the demon from escaping, it is now focusing all its murderous intent on him instead. Which is, with a demon as powerful as a Psuchophagos, kind of problematic. 

He can hear Magnus behind him saying “Uhm, Alec...” in a way that suggests he has come to the same conclusion. There is another low growl and the Psuchophagos smacks its tail against the ground, getting ready to attack. Eyes still fixed on Alec, it kicks off of the ground and leaps towards him.

Calling it ‘slightly worrying’ is actually quite an understatement. 

He’s seriously fucked.

Magnus is too far away to be of any help, and there’s not enough time to dive to the side when the Psuchophagos is rapidly coming closer. The car behind him stops him from taking a few steps back, but Instead of doing that, Alec uses the car as leverage and jumps straight at the demon. 

They collide mid-air and Alec struggles to avoid the demon’s teeth and claws, hanging on to its neck. He twists his hands in the demon’s black fur to get a better hold while he kicks it in the jaw, and there is a loud clacking sound as its teeth slam together. The Psuchophagos lets out a pained howl and violently shakes its head, making Alec lose his grip so he ends up flying several meters across the parking lot before landing hard on the ground. 

He gets up quickly, and by the time he’s on his feet Magnus is there, distracting the Psuchophagos by attacking it with his katana. In this moment he looks every bit the avenging angel that Shadowhunters claim to be. The streetlights cast sharp shadows across his face while his eyes seem to be burning gold. This is what he’s trained to do, and it’s visible in the agile way he moves, avoiding the demon’s blows and delivering his own with a precision that seems almost effortless. 

However, this is not the kind of demon that he fights on a daily basis. The Psuchophagos is an ancient being, one of the first demons to walk the earth, and it’s not a threat that Magnus can face on his own. Courtesy of the Psuchophagos’ magic, the shadows start to cling to Magnus’ limbs, slowing down his movements like he’s moving through molasses. He aims a jab at the demon’s side, but the shadows clinging to him make it impossible to move back again in time to avoid the Psuchophagos’ claws. Magnus falls to the ground clutching his injured side, and braces himself for the impact of the next blow.

Except it never comes, because Alec has his hand outstretched towards the demon and is chanting words in an ancient demon language, making the air inside the Psuchophagos’ airways burn until it can’t breathe anymore. For some reason seeing Magnus hurt angers Alec in a way that’s usually reserved only for when his siblings are injured. There’s a cold fury running through his system that makes him want to kill the demon in the most painful way possible. _I will tear you apart,_ he thinks, _piece by piece, until the agony makes you go insane and you’ll be begging me to end you._

By now the Psuchophagos is shrieking in pain, stumbling against cars and falling to the ground as it tries to escape from him. Magnus is looking at the scene with a shocked expression, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly as he moves out of the way of the trashing demon. Alec slowly moves towards the demon and when he’s close enough he drags his hand downwards, making the demon crash to the ground and stay there. It is struggling to get up, but he won’t let it, not now, not after all that it has done. Alec has always had such perfect control over his magic, it is a part of him after all, and even now, with the ancient demon struggling against his hold with all of its power, his iron control and cold focus keep it down. Its limbs tear uselessly at the ground and the whimpering gets louder as it realises that it can’t escape, and Alec takes a few steps closer until he stands staring down at the Psuchophagos.

It is moments like this, when his enemy lies helpless at his feet and his power courses through his veins, ready to follow his every command, that he feels most in tune with his demonic side. He’s never seen it as a bad thing, even though others have tried to convince him it is. How can it be a bad thing when it’s such a prominent part of him, the source of his magic and his eternal life? If there is anything that he’s learned in his life, it’s that balance is key. He doesn’t keep his demonic side locked away, but simply controls it with his human side, balancing on the thin line between the two. 

However, at times like these, when his anger still boils inside of him after he’s taken down some deserving piece of trash, he allows himself to sink into the dark comfort of his demonic side. He knows the expression on his face isn’t a pleasant one, his eyes burning with hellfire and his lips pulled into an malevolent smirk, but he can’t be bothered to give a shit. He snaps his fingers, sending white sparks flying through the air, and the Psuchophagos howls as its tail snaps in two. 

“Alec, wait.” Magnus has managed to stand up and is now hesitantly moving towards him. He’s holding a hand to his injured side to stop the blood flow. “We need him alive.”

“Do we _really_ though, Magnus?” Alec replies without taking his eyes off of the Psuchophagos. “...I don’t think so.”

Knowing Magnus is in pain, and that the demon is the cause only strengthens his resolve to kill it. He’s about to break the Psuchophagos’ spine next when Magnus crashes into him, throwing them both behind a car and in doing so breaking the spell. Alec tears himself free from Magnus’ grip and slams him on the ground, a hand around his neck to keep him down as he fixes him with a narrow eyed stare. _“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, I was—“_

“Alec, hold on, _calm down!_ ” Magnus hisses, his eyes wide. “You’re hurting me!”

Alec lets go of Magnus’ throat as if he’s been burnt and takes a step back. Magnus moves into a crouching position and eyes him warily. _I didn’t mean to hurt you_ , Alec thinks, _I swear._ For a while the only sound is their heavy breathing and the howling of the wind across the empty parking lot. Then there is a wailing sound as the Psuchophagos gets up and starts to look for them. 

“Alec, we had a plan, remember? We can’t use the Psuchophagos for tracking when it’s dead.”

“Yeah, okay,” Alec mumbles, “the plan... _Right._ ” 

He shakes his head, trying to get rid of the leftover anger that’s still burning inside of him. Why does Magnus getting hurt have such a huge effect on him? 

“Oh, and Alec?” Magnus says. “You shouldn’t just call out and fix the demon’s attention on yourself like you did just now. Putting yourself in the line of fire like that... It’s dangerous, you could’ve gotten seriously injured.”

For some reason this annoys Alec. He knows Magnus means well, but... Really? He’s not some fragile little teacup, he was about to _kill_ the Psuchophagos for fucks sake. Why does Magnus see him as this vulnerable thing that needs to be protected? 

“Magnus, I know you’re used to protecting mundanes, it’s what you do. But you would do well to remember that I am _not_ one of them. I’ve done things a lot worse than killing a Psuchophagos.” He looks into Magnus’ eyes, making sure that the message gets across. _You don’t know what I’m capable of, so back off._

It’s Magnus who breaks eye contact first.

Alec gets up from behind the car and walks into the Psuchophagos’ line of sight. According to their plan, he will act as bait and let the demon come towards him. At the last moment Magnus will jump in and use the element of surprise to catch the demon. Considering that the demon must really hate him by now Alec thinks that his awkward ass will make some _fantastic_ bait.

The Psuchophagos rears its ugly head and focuses its red eyes on Alec. The demon bares its teeth at him, the sharp fangs catching the light in a way that only makes them look more dangerous, and lets out a roar that rattles the nearby car windows. 

“Yeah, just get on with it, will you?” Alec calls out at the demon. 

Its broken tail drags uselessly over the ground as the Psuchophagos takes a few steps in his direction. Then it stops and regards him, looking almost passive but for the white hot hatred burning in its eyes.

“Well? Come and get me you piece of filth.”

There is a scraping sound as the demon drags its claws across the asphalt. It growls somewhere low in its throat as it prepares to leap at him. It sags through its knees slightly, tensing the muscles in its hind legs, building up energy... And when it leaps into the air, coming straight at him, time seems to slow down.

His brain quickly calculates that it will take about six seconds for the demon to crash into him. _What the hell am I doing?_ He thinks. _What if Magnus fails to catch it? There won’t be enough time to escape or attack, I’ll be dead for sure._

Five seconds left, and- _Forget failing to catch it, what if Magnus doesn’t even try? He doesn’t necessarily need me anymore, if he has the demon he can track its master. There is no need for him to risk getting hurt, he can catch it while it’s tearing into my lifeless body._

Four seconds... _Why would Magnus even bother trying to save me? There is no guarantee that he will, the whole situation is purely based on trust._

Three... _Do I trust him? I want to. I really do, but this is not about what I want, this is about life or death. The last time I trusted a Shadowhunter I almost got myself killed._

Two... _I can’t make the same mistake again. This is not just about myself, I have siblings to care for. I shouldn’t do this, I can’t..._

One second left, and he has made his decision. _I won’t._

Alec kicks off of the ground and starts running. He starts running straight towards the Psuchophagos and jumps, catching hold of one of its ears and some of the fur on its back. He swings himself up so that he’s sitting on the demon’s back and violently yanks its head back, bringing it to a stop. He takes the silver dagger that he brought with him and focuses all the magic he has, gathering it in the small blade. It shines as bright as any star and almost seems to vibrate with power.

Then, with all the power he’s got in him, he brings the dagger down on the Psuchophagos’ head.

For a second there is nothing but a light so bright that it looks like it’s daytime. It’s not the warm light of the sun, but it is the white of Alec’s magic. It lights up the entire parking lot, bathing it in the cold colour, giving the space an eerie feel. Then there is a sound like the impact of a lightning strike as all of the concentrated magic explodes.

Alec should feel the full force of the impact, but instead it’s like he’s detached from it all. He feels like a bystander, watching the situation pan out but not being a part of it. It’s as if time has slowed down. He looks on as the force of the explosion blows away everything around it. Cars, streetlights, pieces of asphalt and other debris all go flying through the air in slow motion. He can hear nothing but the ringing in his ears, and apart from that it’s almost blissfully quiet. It feels like he’s standing in the eye of the storm, or more accurately, like he _is_ the eye of the storm. He looks down at his feet. The ground is burned black and smoking in a circle around him.

There is nothing left of the Psuchophagos.

Slowly his hearing begins to come back. The ringing and silence make way for the blaring sound of car alarms and the hissing of smoke and steam. The iron of the cars close to the blast is glowing red hot, the paint having melted right off of the frame. It looks like a bomb has gone off, and Alec is standing in the epicentre of the explosion.

Which, he supposes, is not too far from the truth.

There is something unnerving about the whole situation, but he can’t quite seem to grasp just what it is. Then the feeling of cold dread comes crashing in and he gasps as he realises that _he did not come here alone._

“Magnus!” He yells across the empty space. “Magnus, _Magnus!_ ”

He starts sprinting in a random direction, continuously yelling Magnus’ name as he looks for him in the ruined parking lot. He’s got several cuts and bruises on his arms and legs from running through the wreckage. _The wreckage that you made_ , a little voice in his head unhelpfully adds. He keeps stumbling and falling over loose pieces of debris, and his hands are bleeding, but he doesn’t care. 

Alec’s heart stops as he spots a body lying slumped against one of the cars. It isn’t moving. He can’t see well in the darkness, not now that all of the streetlights have been destroyed by the blast. _Oh God_ , he thinks, _Oh God please no, please don’t let it be him, please..._ He moves closer to take a look at the face, holding his breath as he takes the last few steps. 

It’s the body of the victim of the Psuchophagos, the little boy. Alec can’t help but feel relieved that it isn’t Magnus’ body. There’s still a chance that he made it out alive, there’s still... There’s still a chance that Alec hasn’t killed him. 

People will come here and find the little boy’s body. An explosion like the one he’s just caused can’t go unnoticed, so he leaves the kid where he is. There’s nothing he can do for him. He’s already failed the poor child. People will probably write it off as a gas leak and say the kid was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s better for them not to know what really happened.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”Alec says. He continues looking through the mess that was once a completely normal parking lot, stumbling through the wreckage and calling Magnus’ name until he’s hoarse. He’s getting so fucking tired, the lack of sleep and energy catching up with him and making him dizzy with exhaustion. He stops and leans against a car, or what’s left of it, and catches his breath. It is getting lighter, dawn isn’t far off, ready to shine it’s light on the catastrophe that Alec’s caused. 

“Alec, over here” 

It’s so soft that Alec almost misses it, and for a second he thinks that he’s imagined it. But then it comes again, and hope begins to bloom in his chest. 

“Magnus?”

“Yeah,” Magnus coughs, “who else dumbass.”

It’s coming from behind the car apposite of him. Alec practically runs towards it and finds Magnus propped up against one of the tires, looking battered and shaken but very much alive.

“Oh my God,” Alec says, crouching down next to him, “I thought you were dead. _I thought I’d killed you._ ” 

“Well, you’ll have to try harder next time.” Magnus grins. 

“How did you survive that, you were way too close, you couldn’t have—”

Magnus rolls up his sleeve and points at an almost faded rune on his underarm. “Fire resistance. I didn’t actually think that I’d need it, but now I’m glad I drew it. The force of the blast sent me flying though. I think I was unconscious for quite a while.” His expression turns serious and he sits a bit straighter, looking at Alec for a few seconds.

“Why did you kill it?” he asks. “Why didn’t you wait like we planned?”

Alec suddenly finds himself extremely fascinated by the loose threads of his sweatshirt. He worries them between his fingers for a while, watching as his sleeve frays a bit more every time he pulls out another thread. 

“I wasn’t sure whether you’d actually jump in and catch the Psuchophagos before it killed me.” He eventually says, still not looking at Magnus.

“Of course I would’ve, that was the plan, right?” Magnus says. He looks confused, like he can’t imagine a scenario in which he’d act any other way. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Well, technically you don’t need me anymore. You could’ve waited until it had its claws in me and caught it then. That way the risk of you getting hurt would’ve been significantly lower.”

Magnus looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “What? Alec, I wasn’t just going to leave you to die like that!”

“Weren’t you Magnus?” Alec says, finally looking at him. The tone of his voice is flat and matter-of-fact, even as old memories come flooding back into his mind, spreading feelings of pain and betrayal. “Because in my experience with Shadowhunters, that’s exactly what you would’ve done.”


	10. The Calm Before the Storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK WITH A NEW CHAPTER!!! :D  
> Sorry for the long wait! The last few weeks were really busy so I didn't have a lot of time to write. I got a role in our school's musical and boiiiii that was a lot of text I had to learn by heart, and practice was absolutely exhausting sometimes. However, with those performances out of the way I had time to finish this chapter, and I hope you'll enjoy reading it!

It is five in the morning and it’s still dark as Magnus makes his way back to the Institute. He’s glad that he’d thought to bring a scarf, because the wind is harsh and cold, making a sound akin to howling as it blows through the streets. A lone little bird has perched itself on someone’s windowsill and is singing its first notes of the day. Magnus likes the solitude of these early hours. The streets are still mostly empty and quiet, but a few people are already up and about, wrapped up in their coats and scarves to protect them from the cold as they walk with large strides towards their destination. The city is waking up.

He would’ve been at the institute already if he’d taken a cab, but Magnus doesn’t want to deal with small talk or anyone else’s presence at the moment. He prefers to walk, even though it takes longer. Or maybe _because_ it takes longer. He needs some time alone with his thoughts, to process everything that’s happened and go over new information and ideas. It is easier to think without anyone there to distract him. The quietness makes him feel calm and at ease as he walks, mindlessly putting one foot in front of the other, feeling the icy wind against his skin. It helps to clear his mind and make sense of things. 

After all, he’s got a lot to think about.

_“Because in my experience with Shadowhunters, that’s exactly what you would’ve done.”_

Alec’s words keep playing over and over in his head like a broken record. Something had happened to Alec, something so bad that it made it nearly impossible for him to trust anyone at all. Magnus had tried to ask him about it, but at the slightest mention of the subject Alec would tense and close himself off. He remembers Tessa saying something about how he used to help the Shadowhunters by healing their wounded, and wonders what could possibly have happened to elicit such a drastic change. 

While doing research together, they’d slowly started to feel so comfortable around each other, talking and laughing in a way that wasn’t forced or awkward but instead simply felt _right_. He’d almost forgotten that Alec was a Downworlder and he himself a Shadowhunter, that they aren’t supposed to get along as well as they do. 

He’d discarded the countless warnings from Ragnor and his friends urging him to be careful around Alec. He’d cast aside the knowledge of just how dangerous Alexander Gideon Lightwood could be.

The past few hours have been a harsh reminder of that fact. When he closes his eyes he can still see Alec on top of the Psuchophagos, bringing down a dagger burning with magical power into the demon’s head, and the frightening explosion that followed. He can see the feral, murderous look on Alec’s face as he’d set the air in the demon’s lungs on fire, making it cry out in sheer agony. Not once upon meeting Alec had he thought of the boy as the half Demon that he was, but at that moment Magnus could see the Hellfire burning in his eyes. While their stunning blue colour had always reminded Magnus of the peace and calm of the ocean, there wasn’t anything calm about them this time. Instead they brought with them the feeling of the air before a lightning strike: charged and electric, a controlled fury ready to strike at any moment. Eyes blue as storm. 

Magnus frowned as he realised that even after what he’d seen last night, he still liked Alec. He was dangerous and unpredictable, but at the same time the most caring and selfless person he’d ever met. It made him think of something his father had told him back when he was still alive. When Magnus was around the tender age of ten his father, Asmodeus, had taken him on his first hunt. Asmodeus had told him he wasn’t allowed to do anything except pay attention and watch what he was doing, but Magnus was extremely excited nonetheless. That changed when his father ended up killing a Warlock. Magnus had gotten really upset and started shouting at his father, his young mind not able to process why his father would do such a terrible thing while acting as if it didn’t matter at all. Asmodeus had gotten down on one knee and calmly and patiently proceeded to explain to him that although Warlocks looked like people, in reality they weren’t like them at all. He’d told him that it was a Shadowhunter’s job to protect the world from evil, and that killing demons was a part of that. Warlocks were simply unlucky to be born the way they were: half human, half demon. No matter how hard their human side would try to be a good person, their demonic side would always win in the end. 

_“Listen to me Magnus.” Asmodeus said. “Always remember that in situations like this, the ends justify the means. If we want the world free of everything demonic, we’ll have to be consistent. That means Warlocks and Faeries as well. They are half demon, which means they’ll have at least some of the demonic characteristics. They are aggressive, proud, egoistic and cruel. They lie, they cheat and they hurt everyone around them. By killing them we’re doing the world and even their own human side a favour. So please don’t cry, my son, and remember the big picture. Sometimes you’ll have to make sacrifices for the greater good.”_

His father wasn’t the only one who thought things like this. It was, and still is, a mentality shared by a lot of other Shadowhunters. Not by Magnus himself though. Even though his father tried to convince him otherwise, Magnus has always thought that Downworlders shouldn’t be caged, let alone murdered for simply being who they are.

He wants Alec to understand that, that he doesn’t see him as something evil that needs to be killed. He loves spending time with him and doesn’t want that to end once this investigation is over. He wants to be able to still randomly show up at Alec’s apartment and eat takeout together while they talk about all different kinds of things. He wants Alec to trust him, for him to feel comfortable enough to tell him about whatever it is that has happened to him in the past. It might take a while, but Magnus can be patient. 

He can wait.

\---

Magnus sighs as the heavy door of the institute swings shut behind him. He leans back against it and closes his eyes for a few seconds, mentally preparing himself for what he’s about to do. He can’t put it off any longer, he’s got to talk to Catarina, Tessa, Raphael and Ragnor. Alec and him had both agreed that it was necessary. Jace and Isabelle had said they were close to figuring out the location where the Psuchophagos was summoned, and once they did, they would have to confront whoever it was that was behind all of this. 

Magnus doesn’t like to admit it, but that scares him. Tales about ancient demons like the Psuchophagos were the ghost stories of the Shadow world, told in hushed voices late at night that would leave everyone with a feeling of unease and paranoia. Now he was going to face someone who regards this ancient creature as simply a part of their plan. A plan that, when successfully carried out, would have dire consequences for _everyone_ , not just the Nephilim. Someone successfully summoning a Prince of Hell is almost unheard of, and it would be for the best if it stayed that way. The last time a Prince of Hell was summoned, half of Europe died of the Black Plague. 

Power like that is best left undisturbed.

It is vital that they stop the summoning ritual before it is finished. That means fighting the one performing it, but Magnus is worried that it will be worse than that. The huge amount of Dark magic used in the ritual will attract an alarmingly large amount of demons, like moths to a flame. Even though Magnus is confident in his battle skills and those of his friends, he isn’t sure whether it will be enough to take on an entire army of demons. He forces himself to take a deep breath and opens his eyes. _At this point it isn’t even about winning anymore, is it?_ A little voice in his head speaks up. _It’s about stopping that ritual before it’s too late, even if we all die in the process._

Whatever they will find at the location of the summoning, they’re going to need more people than just the four of them. Which is why Magnus needs to talk with Catarina and the others, and explain what has been going on for the past few weeks. He knows it’s not going to be pretty. They’ll be mad and hurt that he’s kept this secret from them, but hopefully they’ll recognise the urgency of the situation and put their anger aside for now. Because by the Angel, he’s going to need their help.

He starts walking towards the library, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls of the institute. He forces himself to calm down and get his breathing back under control. Inside he might feel like he’s drowning, but it won’t do any good to show that to the others. Instead he puts on his signature smirk and lets himself relax, making sure he looks casual as he opens the oaken doors that lead to the library. 

Just like he expected his friends are there, lounging on the couches in front of the hearth. The fire casts their faces in an orange glow, and Magnus longs to get closer to it and feel its warmth on his skin, especially after walking in the cold for so long.

“So you still remember where you live.” Raphael says without sparing him a glance. “Good to know.”

“Ahw, I missed you too Raphael.” He replies, ruffling Raphael’s hair as he walks past him and laughing at the undignified yelp that he receives in return. 

Magnus kicks off his shoes and sits down on the floor next to Tessa, his back leaning against the couch and his long legs stretched out in front of him. He holds his hands up towards the fire, hoping to bring some warmth back into his frozen fingers. He lets out a sigh, knowing he needs to confess his recent whereabouts to his friends sooner rather than later, but not wanting to go through with it just yet. He gives himself a few minutes to enjoy the comfortable silence, only broken by the crackling of the fire and the sound of Tessa turning the pages of her book. 

“I’ve got to tell you guys something that you probably won’t like.” He can feel their gazes on him but keeps his own focussed on the fire, watching the flames dance across the logs while the coals glow various shades of red, orange and yellow. “Could you please promise to hear me out? Actually, it might be better if Ragnor knows about it as well, it’s certainly important enough...” He trails off, not yet sure whether he should tell Ragnor or not, considering Ragnor, as the official head of the New York Institute, is obliged to tell the Clave about things like this whether he wants to or not. Luckily the choice is made for him as Catarina speaks for the first time since he entered the room.

“If it’s as bad as I feel like it’s going to be, I wouldn’t recommend getting Ragnor involved as well. He believes one of the spoils from his office, that feather, has been stolen, and he’s been in a foul mood all day. I don’t think he’ll be sympathetic to whatever you’ve gotten up to this time.” Raphael hums in agreement, taking out his earphones to better hear Magnus’ story.

“Well?” Raphael asks when Magnus doesn’t speak immediately. “Go on then, we’re listening. Better to just get it over with now.” 

“I’ve continued to examine the case we’ve been working on.” Magnus begins. “I know you told me to give it a rest, but I couldn’t. You know me, it’s just... I couldn’t take my mind off of it.” He falls silent, not exactly sure how to proceed now that he’s started. How does he break something like this to them? _Yeah, so I’ve been doing that research you told me not to do with the dangerous fugitive that everyone is looking for. You know, the one that illegally summons demons in his spare time and knocked me out for three consecutive days. Sorry that I’ve failed to mention it before, but you know what? He’s actually a pretty cool guy and we’ve almost solved the case!_ He cringes internally. Yeah, that’s not going to go over well. 

“So you’ve been doing research, and what else? If it was just research you wouldn’t have told us about it in this manner. What else did you do?” Catarina doesn’t look mad as she says it, instead she just looks at him expectantly. Magnus has got to give it to her, it can’t be easy having to deal with him on a day to day basis, and he appreciates her infinite patience. 

“I’ve been working together with Alexander.” He eventually says. At this Catarina, Tessa and Raphael all look at him with various expressions of shock, worry and disbelief, but as promised, they don’t interrupt him. “A couple of weeks ago I went out looking for the Psuchophagos and found it tearing into Alec’s body. He’d just saved the demon’s original victim, so I knew he couldn’t be the one we’re looking for. I also knew that he still held important information that could help solve the case. We ended up striking a bargain: Alec would actively help with the investigation, and in return I’d keep silent and wouldn’t hand him in to the Clave. When I said I was going for a walk, I’d actually go over to his apartment and we’d do research on the case together. It has really paid off: We’ve figured out what the souls are being used for, the Psuchophagos is dead, and Alec’s siblings have almost found the location where we need to go. I believe that if all of us fight together, we might have a chance to win this.” 

It is quiet for a little while. This obviously wasn’t what they’d expected to hear, and Magnus can tell they’re not happy about it. However, he knows they all realise the importance of the situation and that they’ll be hopelessly outnumbered if they don’t team up with Alec and his siblings. He keeps quiet and gives them time to think about what he’s said, and awaits their responses.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tessa asks.

“Well, would any of you have agreed to work with Alec? You would’ve notified the Clave at the first given opportunity, and we would’ve lost our biggest chance at solving the case.” 

“Fair enough,” Catarina says, “you’re not wrong. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a reckless decision though. Even now, are you one hundred percent sure that you can trust him, and that he isn’t tricking you? How do you know they’re not going to lead us into a trap?”

“Because Alec would never do something like that, he’s not that kind of person.” Magnus says. He is aware that he might be coming of a little defensive, but since he got to know Alec better he’s started to feel a bit protective towards the Warlock. 

“Well, he did attack you and knocked you unconscious for about three days.” Raphael says. 

“Yeah, well, but that was different.”

Raphael raises both eyebrows and gives him an unconvinced look.

“Okay,” Catarina says, “apart from the issue of whether we can trust him or not, what have you figured out while doing research? You said you discovered what the souls are being used for.”

“Yeah, we did, and you’re not going to like it.” Magnus says. “They’re summoning a Prince of Hell.”

The change is so sudden it’s as if someone flipped a switch. All at once the fear and worry are almost palpable in the air, now that they’ve all realised the direness of the situation. None of them can be considered weak or even average among other Nephilim, they even have a reputation for being the most dangerous and skilled Shadowhunters of their generation, but this is something they know is too much even for them. The Nine Princes of Hell are something even the Clave itself doesn’t dare to talk about. The fallen Angels still posses all of their god-like power, and no moral rules to follow. They’re immensely powerful individuals acting only in their own self-interest, entirely unpredictable and each of them a horrible threat. Definitely not something you ever want to encounter in your life.

Tessa looks at him in alarm. “By the Angel, that’s even worse than I imagined. Is there a way to-, I don’t know, stop it? I mean, there _has_ to be. If there isn’t...” She trails of, her face gone pale as a sheet of paper.

“If we get there in time, we’ll be able to interrupt the ritual and prevent the summoning.” Magnus says. “Alec will message me when his siblings have disclosed the location. If we leave as fast as we can, we might have a chance of making it. That is, if you all agree to come. I can’t force you, but I am going no matter what, and I would feel a lot better if the three of you were fighting alongside me.”

“Magnus,” Catarina says, “of course we’re coming with you. You’re not doing this alone.” 

“You might not act like it all the time, but you’re a part of our team Magnus.” Raphael says. “We’ll do this together.”

“Exactly, there is no way that I will sit here in the institute doing nothing while I know something this dangerous is going on.” Tessa says. Her tone is confident, but Magnus can tell she’s afraid. In fact, he’s pretty sure they all are. This entire situation is unlike anything they’ve ever dealt with before, but then again, who has? Magnus can count the amount of times someone has tried to summon a Prince of Hell on one hand, the last time being thousands of years ago. They’re completely on their own.

\---

They make their way to the weapons room, where they begin decorating their skin with Angelic runes and preparing for the upcoming battle. Unlike how they usually get ready, they don’t laugh and joke around. Instead they put on their gear in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. They all know the odds aren’t that great, even when work together with Alec and his siblings. They don’t know what exactly they’re going to find, but just the _possibility_ of having to take on one of the Nine Princes of Hell makes even Magnus want to turn tail and run. 

Once they have all finished putting on their gear, runes and weapons, they wait for Alec’s message. Magnus fills them in on the other things he’s discovered while working with Alec, and they discuss possible strategies for stopping the ritual and fighting off the demons. Everyone is nervous about how this is going to turn out. Magnus has known them long enough that he can tell they’re feeling that way by simply looking at them. He can see it in the way Tessa keeps running her hand through her hair, or how Catarina taps her fingers on the table. He can tell from Raphael throwing his silver knife from one hand to the other without actually looking at it. 

Magnus is so lost in thought that he startles when he feels his mobile vibrate in his pocket. Upon taking it out he sees that he’s got a message from Alec. His heart beats loudly in his chest as he opens it. It shows a text message and a location.

**Alexander** ; 7:43 AM:  
_This is the place, be there asap. We’ll be waiting for you by the gate in front of the building.  
It’s time to make an end to this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter, "The calm before the storm", kind of refers to everyone getting ready for battle, because next chapter SHIT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN. Prepare for battle, demons and some badass Malec action! :)
> 
> Woaaahhh I also wanted to thank everyone who's left kudos and bookmarks! This story now has over 600 kudos and BOI. I did not expect it to ever get that many! (I was like, hoping for 100 with a bit of luck) I also really appreciate everyone that has taken the time to write a comment! They are so awesome to read and I love hearing from you guys, your comments inspire me and really make my day!!! <3


	11. Visits From the Past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _It's been 84 years…_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Yeah. Sorry about that. I've been really busy and without wifi for _far_ too long.
> 
> BUT I'M BACK NOW WITH A NEW CHAPTER!!! ENJOY!!!
> 
> (Just so you guys now, I'm **not** leaving this story unfinished, so if the updates take a while it's just me being stressed and slow. Feel free to attack me in the comments haha)

Alec tightens the strings of his bracer, making sure the leather covers his inner forearm so the snap of his bowstring can’t hurt him. He usually foregoes taking his bow with him and just relies on his magic instead, but for a battle this dangerous Alec likes to be better armed. Alec, Jace and Izzy are hidden behind a low wall that surrounds an old factory, crouched down so that they stay completely out of view. The whole industrial terrain is devoid of other human beings, but they’re far from alone. Demons are lurking in the shadows surrounding the place, moving around the terrain restlessly. The continuous sound of their pacing mixed with the heavy feeling of dark magic sets Alec’s nerves on edge. He knows he’s not the only one who’s feeling tense. Jace keeps sneaking glances at the factory before crouching back down behind the wall, and Izzy is readjusting her whip a bit more often than strictly necessary.

“There are three of them lurking around the entrance,” Jace says. “One of them looks larger than the others, it might be a Libitinae or an Impes from what I can see. The other two are weaker.”

“Then we’ve got to take the bigger one out first,” Izzy replies. “It doesn’t matter if it’s an Impes or a Libitinae, either of them will be a lot harder to deal with than the smaller ones.”

Alec hums in agreement, biting on his nails as he looks at the time. It is 8:14 AM. Magnus had said he and the other Shadowhunters would be here around eight, and a part of him is worried that with all the demons running around, they’ve been attacked on their way here. The other, more rational part of him tells him that Magnus is a Shadowhunter more than capable of keeping his own against a demon or two, that it’s only been fourteen minutes and he needs to _chill out_ , but it’s not quite strong enough to calm his nerves.

“Hey there,” comes a low voice somewhere on his right, and Alec breathes a sigh of relief.

“Magnus, finally. What took you so long?”

“Oh come on,” Magnus replies, “it’s only been, like, ten minutes—”

“Fourteen,” Alec corrects him.

Magnus rolls his eyes, “Fine, _fourteen_ minutes. We just had a run in with a minor demon, nothing to worry about.”

“Really, we’re fine.” Tessa says upon seeing Alec’s dubious expression, offering him a small smile.

“So why this place?” Catarina asks, taking in their surroundings and the old factory in front of them.

Isabelle looks up, letting go of the whip wrapped around her waist and begins to explain how she and Jace had found the location. They’d looked through the ritual again, looking at the requirements for the summoning and trying to find a place that had all of the necessary aspects. 

“We were looking for a pretty isolated place,” Isabelle says. “The ritual calls for ten years between spilling the first blood and actually performing the ritual, so it had to be a place that’s been abandoned for a long time. It also says the place needs to be ‘stained by fire and death’. Jace and I looked up abandoned buildings that had a fire at least ten years ago. Then we came across this one. Sixteen years ago there was an explosion here which caused a huge fire to burn down most of the factory, taking the lives of 43 of the employees working there. It met all the criteria we were looking for, as well as having a suspiciously large number of demons roaming the area around the place.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Raphael says. “Speaking off, how are we going to get inside the building with a demon waiting around every corner? We can’t fight all of them at once, that’s like asking to get your throat ripped out.”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on the situation,” Jace says. “There are three demons behind this wall as far as I can see, two of them average and one stronger. I think we have to kill those three first, before they can let any of their ‘friends’ know we’re here.”

“I agree,” Tessa says, “It will give us the element of surprise. However, we shouldn’t try to kill them all. There are too many of them and we can’t waste time on anything that isn’t stopping the ritual.”

“Let’s divide ourselves into smaller groups,” says Raphael. “That way we won’t be one easy target and they’ll have to divide their attention. We’ll be able to move faster as well.”

Catrina frowns slightly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t like the idea of splitting up, but I guess you’re right. We should wait for each other once we’re inside though, and nobody is going by themselves.” 

“Obviously not,” Isabelle agrees. “Three groups sounds reasonable, right?”

They all nod in agreement, but a quiet unease settles over them. Even though they’ve agreed to work together, they still don’t fully trust each other. Alec knows Jace and Izzy don’t want to be in a group with the Shadowhunters, and he can tell that the same thing goes for the Shadowhunters themselves. However, with both groups apart from each other, it’s all too easy to imagine one of them leaving the other behind. 

They don’t have time for something like this. Every second spent worrying about these unnecessary things is a second wasted, and that is time they can’t afford to lose. Alec has made up his mind.

“Alright. You three,” he says, pointing at Catarina, Raphael and Tessa, “You’re one group, Jace and Izzy go together, and I’ll go with Magnus.” He risks a glance in Magnus’s direction and is met with a small smile, which helps to calm his nerves a little. “Once inside the factory you wait for everyone else.”

“Sounds good to me,” Catarina says. “Raphael, Tessa and I will go along the right side.”

Jace nods. “We’ll go through the middle,” he says, smirking at Isabelle. “We do love a challenge now, don’t we?” 

“ _Jace,_ ” Alec says, the seriousness of his tone making smile drop from Jace’s face. “This isn’t something to laugh about. Don’t do anything stupid or dangerous, just make it to the factory as quick as possible. There’s no need to take unnecessary risks.” 

Jace breathes out a sigh, but nods anyway. He might be a little cocky most of the time, but in situations like this he listens to Alec’s every word. 

“I guess that leaves the left side for us,” Magnus says. “But we’ve got to take care of those three demons first.”

“I got it,” Alec says. He takes his bow, knocks an arrow and closes his eyes. He’ll be seen the second he comes from behind their little wall, so he’s got to get it right the first try. He levels his breathing and focuses on where the demonic energy is coming from. He pictures the scene in his mind: the two smaller demons right behind him, the larger one a little off to his right. There are no obstacles between the demons and Alec himself except for the wall he’s hiding behind. Once he leaves his cover he’ll have a clear shot. Alec takes a deep breath, and jumps.

The first arrow has already hit its mark before Alec’s feet touch the ground on the other side of the wall. There is no sound except for that of the larger one of the demons hitting the ground, an arrow lodged deep into its skull between its four yellow eyes. _Ah, so it was a Libitinae after all._ Only a few seconds later Alec has fired his next arrow, and he watches it go straight through the neck of one smaller demon before embedding itself into the heart of the other one. They’re dead before their bodies hit the ground. None of the other demons lurking around the place have noticed anything, so Alec motions for the others to join him on the other side of the wall.

“That was... Impressive,” Catarina says while looking at the slaughtered demons in front of them.

“Uh, thanks,” Alec says. From his conversations with Magnus Alec had learned a lot about the other Nephilim. From what Magnus had said about her, Catarina seems to be a good person, very caring and hard-working. However, he still has trouble reconciling the person from Magnus’ stories with the Shadowhunter that had barged into his home, demanding answers that he couldn’t give.

“We should move,” Tessa says. She’s holding two seraph blades, the light blue glow of the weapons reflecting in her grey eyes. She’s scanning their surroundings for movement. So far everything is quiet, but that can change at any moment. 

“You’re right,” Raphael says, “We have to keep moving.” He nods at Magnus, then motions for Tessa and Catarina to come with him as he starts running towards the right, ducking behind containers and the ruins of what was once a warehouse of some sorts. 

Alec begs his sibling to be careful one last time before he too starts running, Magnus right by his side.

The factory is surrounded by the wall they just passed, but before they can reach the main building they first have to cross the square in front of it. The square is full of old, metal containers and garbage, as well as some smaller buildings of which some are almost completely burned to the ground, while others are still in a pretty decent state. There are lots of dark, shadowy places which are perfect for demons to hide in. They have to be extremely careful if they want to reach the main hall fast, and without too much attention.

“This way,” Magnus says, going for a narrow passage between two burned down buildings. The top of the passage is covered by old debris from the buildings, only letting small strips of light through. The dust they kick up becomes visible in the beams, lazily making its way back to the ground again while the two of them keep running. The passage has many different twists and turns, and they occasionally have to climb over rubble blocking their path which slows their progress a bit, but the walls on either side of them are high and their windows blackened by smoke, hiding them from view and keeping their presence unknown. 

They near the end of the passage. It opens up to a broader street that’s in a similar state. The factory could be right behind them for all Alec knew. After all the twists and turns of their previous path he’s lost his sense of direction. They need to find a place with a better view of their surroundings or else they might risk themselves running in circles. Somewhere off to their right the sound of loud screeching breaks the previous silence and alerts them that the demons are now aware of their presence. 

Alec is about to turn around the corner when a pair of arms closes around his chest and pulls him back. 

“Magnus, wha—” Alec starts, but Magnus stops him before he can finish speaking. Instead of silence however, all Alec can hear is the beating of his own heart, loud and a little too fast, in his ears. He knows it is not from fear though. He is hyper aware of the warmth of Magnus’ body against his back, the strong arms holding him close and the almost inaudible puffs of breath against the top of his head. He knows it is not what he should be thinking about, they’re in the middle of trying to stop one of the most dangerous rituals ever known and they’re probably all going to be dead in an hour so he should be focusing on _that_ , but he can’t. Instead, he thinks about leaning back into Magnus’ hold, maybe even turning around and tilting his head up to kiss that amused smirk that somehow always seems to be there on his lips. Or he could burrow closer into his hold, wrap his own arms around Magnus in return and just let his guard down for once in his fucking life. It is a tempting thought.

Then Alec sees the reason why Magnus pulled him back in the first place. The opening of the passage darkens as a demon the size of a pickup truck runs past them towards the direction of the sound they heard earlier. The darkness of their hiding spot keeps them from being seen, and the demon moves past them unaware that anyone’s there. 

“Not too fast, Alexander,” Magnus whispers in his ear. Alec can practically _hear_ the smirk, and the thought of kissing the Nephilim is back again. Instead of doing that he frees himself from Magnus’ hold and moves forward again, this time looking both ways before entering the street. He doesn’t look back to see if Magnus is following him, not only because he can hear his footsteps behind him, but also because he can feel the blush on his face and does _not_ want to give the Shadowhunter the satisfaction of seeing it. In their weeks doing research together Magnus had found out that a blush was clearly visible on Alec, as the red colour stood out against the paleness of his complexion. He’d then decided that it would be a fun game to try and make Alec blush as often as he could, seductively purring all kinds of things that made the heat go to his face, mostly because Magnus seemed to mean every word. 

“Your ears go red too, you know,” Magnus says, obviously pleased with himself.

Alec ignores him.

“We need to get to a higher point,” He says instead. “I honestly have no clue where we are right now, and we can’t waste time getting lost here.”

“I think I know where we are, but it’s a good idea nonetheless,” Magnus replies. They turn right onto the street until they come across one of the many containers scattered around the place. It’s about two meters high, a little rusty and the paint is peeling off, but it looks steady enough to hold their weight. Magnus starts to run, and with an incredible feat of the angelic power Shadowhunters are known for he takes a giant leap through the air and lands on top of the container. Crouching down, he holds his hand over the edge so Alec can grab onto it.

A bit less graceful Alec manages to get on top of the container as well. From here they have a much better view of their surroundings. The factory is in front of them, a little off to the right. They’re almost there, only a few buildings away from the entrance. They start moving again, now staying on top of the buildings to avoid the demons running across the ground below, and so they can see the factory and its surroundings. Once, Alec sees Izzy taking down a demon trying to fly away, strangling it with her whip in mid-air, but as the demon starts to fall it disappears from view, taking his sister along with it. 

With their goal in sight they’re able to move faster. As they near the factory’s entrance they climb back down to the ground. The ruins closest to the building are in such a bad state that climbing on top of them would surely result in at least part of the building collapsing, which would most likely leave one of them injured or worse. 

So far they’ve managed to avoid any demons by staying high off the ground, but Alec doesn’t think they will continue to be this lucky. He keeps moving, carefully climbing over a large wooden beam blocking their path while inspecting their surroundings for any kind of movement. There’s a feeling in his gut that something isn’t quite right. It is quiet. A little _too_ quiet for a place that should be swarming with demons.

“Magnus,” Alec says, “I don’t like this.” 

“Yeah, me neither, but the faster we move, the faster we’ll reach the factory,” Magnus replies. He keeps moving forward, climbing on top of a pile of rubble so he can get through the collapsed building in front of them. Alec squints his eyes as he looks at the huge mess of stone, steel and wood. Something seems to be moving in there, but he’s not sure whether it is real or just his imagination making him see things. The silence is making him nervous, and every shadow seems like an enemy waiting to attack. Something about this is… _Familiar._

“Magnus, stop.” Alec calls out again, only this time something in his voice must be different, because Magnus immediately stops right where he is. Right in front of him looms an empty doorframe through which nothing but the old wooden floor of the building is visible. It’s the only part of the ruin that’s still standing upright. Where the door should be there is nothing except for a weak shimmer, comparable to the way you can see hot air move, that Magnus was about to pass through. It is quiet for a second.

A voice sounds from behind them. “Ahw, Alec, why do you always have to ruin the fun?” The illusion shatters, and instead of dusty wooden floor, there is nothing behind the doorframe but a huge chasm. The floor must have collapsed long ago, and covering the bottom of the hole are sharp pieces of broken glass and splintered wood. Magnus takes a few steps back.

Alec turns around to face the newcomer. It is a woman with straight black hair and a malicious glint in her eyes. She looks almost human except for the fangs behind her lips, and the huge leathery wings on her back. Alec feels like his blood has turned to ice. He knows her, knows how she finds joy in the pain of others, knows how she toys with someone else’s life like it’s a fun little game. He knows it all too well. Fighting demons that are driven by animalistic instinct is bad enough, but when they can think like a person it’s even worse.

Alec tries to stay calm and keep his magic in check. A part of him is screaming _Kill her, let her pay for what she’s done!_ , but he can’t give into that. A fight would mean losing valuable time, so he should at least _try_ to avoid it. “I’ve got things to do Aline,” he says. “ _Go. Away._ ” 

The demon girl pouts, dragging her wings across the ground as she moves closer towards him. “Is that really how you treat family, Alec?” she says in a sickly sweet voice. “I mean, we’re basically cousins after all.” 

“ _Family?_ ” Alec spits out. “Don’t you _dare_ talk to me about family, Aline. Not after what you did.”

Aline laughs, a deceptively sweet sound for a person so vile. “Oh come on Alec, you can’t still be mad about that, it was more than a hundred years ago! I was just having some fun, really.”

Alec’s vision turns red, and he can’t tell if it’s his blood or his magic that he hears roaring in his ears. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the anger burning in his chest, and his demonic side screaming for revenge. With rage fuelling his magic he tears down the two buildings on either side of Aline, and brings them down on top of her. The sound of the crash must be deafening, but Alec can’t hear it. He can’t feel anything but anger and pain, a deep and aching pain for the memory a life lost far too soon. 

Then there is movement, and out of the rubble crawls his demonic cousin, looking furious. She is bruised and bleeding, and her left arm is hanging limply by her side, but her wings are still intact and she manages to fly to the top of one of the buildings.

“Really Alec?” Aline calls out to him. “Even now you’re still hiding behind that fucking glamour.” Then she sees Magnus, who’s come to stand by Alec’s side, and starts laughing. “It’s that Shadowhunter isn’t it? You care so much about him, and you’re afraid you’ll scare him off. How _adorable_. Sorry to burst you’re bubble, but I’m sure he finds you just as disgusting as the rest of them do.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Magnus growls. Aline is only barely fast enough to avoid the seraph blade flying towards her head. It cuts a neat line across her cheek as it flies past, the red blood standing out starkly against her pale skin. She hisses and wipes the blood away with the hand she is still able to move.

“You know what?” she says. “I’ll kill your little Shadowhunter slowly, Alec, and I’ll make sure you’ll be watching _every step of the way_. It’s so much fun to kill the ones you care about and see you suffer. Just like the last time, when I killed that little brother of yours.”

This time Aline isn’t fast enough, and Alec’s white fire hits her square in the chest. She loses her balance and falls down to the ground in a heap of fire and wings. Alec fires an arrow before she can manage to get up. It pierces her right wing at the base, taking away her ability to fly. She cries out and uses her own magic to throw a piece of rubble the size of a small car at Alec. He casts a spell to shield himself, but even though it protects him from the worst of the attack, the force of it still sends him flying backwards against a wall. Pain erupts in the back of his head, dark spots dance across his vision and for a second he can’t seem to breathe. 

Aline has got up and is coming towards him. Her right wing is hanging limply by her side, just like one of her arms, and she’s bleeding in multiple places, but she has a gleeful expression on her face. Alec tries desperately to get up, but his body isn’t ready for that yet and doesn’t cooperate, his vision going black for a second from the effort. He uses his magic to hold her back instead, a wall of white fire separating the two of them from each other. The mental strain worsens the pain in his head to the point where it’s like someone is stabbing his brain, but he forces himself to keep going.

Suddenly the force pressing against his shield disappears, and Alec carefully lowers his guard. His vision is fuzzy and he’s gasping for air, but he can still see Aline looking almost surprised down at her abdomen where a huge red stain has formed. As the katana impaling her is pulled back she falls to her knees, her mouth slightly open while she watches her intestines spilling out onto the ground. A few seconds later she falls forward, her huge leathery wings laying limp and useless next to her. If she could still look through her dead eyes, she’d be able to see her blood colouring the ground a deep shade of red around the soft pink of her intestines.

Magnus wipes the blood off his weapon and puts it back in its sheath. At first glance his face looks emotionless, but when Alec takes a better look he can see the leftover anger still burning inside his eyes like the last dying embers of a fire. Crouching down, he wraps an arm around Alec’s waist and helps him stand. When he shifts his gaze towards Alec his expression morphs into one of worry. 

“I’m sorry Alexander, but we have to move. The sound from the fight has attracted the other demons, we have to go _now_ ,” Magnus says. 

He’s right, Alec can already hear them coming closer. There will be time to catch his breath later, right now they have to move. He grits his teeth and starts running for the entrance. Stealth is no longer an option, and his and Magnus’ footsteps are loud as they pound against the ground, kicking up dust and dirt as they go. The sound of the demons behind them is coming closer, but Alec can’t look around to see how many there are or how close they are, because he has to keep looking at the uneven ground if he doesn’t want to fall. A fall right now would be fatal.

When they finally reach the factory entrance they burst through the metal doors, slamming them close again as soon as they’re inside. A second later they hear the loud banging of demons crashing into the doors. Jace walks towards them and quickly draws a fairy symbol on the metal to strengthen the locks and the material itself.

Alec looks around as he catches his breath. The entrance hall of the factory is dark, the only light coming from the dirty windows in the ceiling. The others are already there. Jace and Izzy are walking around, warding the doors to keep the demons out. In the left corner Catarina is tearing of a piece of fabric from her shirt to use as a bandage for a wound on Raphael’s leg while Tessa is helping him draw an iratze. When he turns to his right to look at Magnus he finds the other already staring at him.

“Alec, are you okay?” he asks.

“Sure, I just needed a moment to recover from the fall,” Alec says.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about. The things she said... Are you sure you’re alright?” Magnus asks. He looks worried, and Alec doesn’t want to worry him even more.

“Yes,” he lies. “Like she said, it was more than a hundred years ago. I’m fine.”

He’s not though. How can he say that he’s fine when the death of his little brother still haunts him to this day? How can he possibly be fine when he still wakes up from nightmares screaming _“Max!”_ at the top of his lungs, or when he feels the guilt almost drown him in the dead of the night, thoughts like _It should have been me_ , or _I should have saved him, I could have done better_ occupying his mind. But this isn’t the time nor the place to deal with this, or to talk about it at all. It is his own burden to bear, and he won’t bother others with it.

“We should get moving,” Raphael says. He’s standing, the wound on his leg already mostly healed. 

“This warding should keep the demons out,” Isabelle says, “but I can’t say for how long. There are a lot of them, and some of them are quite powerful as well.”

“We’ll just have to be prepared to hold them off when the time comes,” Catarina says. “Let’s see what we actually have to deal with inside first.”

In silence they walk towards the end of the hallway, where behind the door they’ll find the main hall of the factory. It’s where the summoning will be taking place. It is the spot where then years ago someone killed a loved one to begin an awful ritual of death and destruction, and it is the place where they’ll fight, where they might even die.

When they open the door they’re met with darkness and the sound of a male voice canting in an ancient demonic language. Even though the windows of the entrance hall had been dirty, they had at least let some light shine through. In here the windows have been boarded up, the only source of illumination the few candles placed around the hall. The sparse lighting makes the old machines look huge, and their shadows even more so. The space in the middle of the room has been cleared, and a huge pentagram has been drawn on the ground, only this one is more complex than Alec has ever seen before. He recognizes it as a summoning circle specifically meant for extremely powerful demonic entities. Three candles as well as one small glass bowl have been placed at each of the five points of the pentagram, and inside the bowls swirls a consistency that is neither gas nor liquid, but something in between. They’re the Souls of the Innocent. 

In front of the pentagram stands a lone figure, holding the white feather that had been stolen from the institute not long ago. The man continues chanting as he throws the feather into the pentagram, where it starts to burn up into bright red flames. Then he turns towards them, the soft candlelight illuminating his features. The man is somewhere in his fifties, with dark hair and slightly tan skin, but it’s the bright green eyes that really catch Alec’s gaze. 

Next to him, Alec sees Magnus freeze. He’s gone really pale, and Alec worries he might pass out, but instead of doing that Magnus starts to speak. His voice is emotionless and flat, and there’s an unreadable expression on his face.

“Hello father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally didn't want to end it here, but the chapter got too long and the POV is changing to Magnus as well, so I thought _Why not?_  
>  That does mean that I've already written a part of the next chapter, so that one shouldn't take as long to post as this one did……. Once again, sorry for the long wait. I was busy and I didn't want to rush it, but I hope this chapter was worth waiting for!


End file.
